


No Angel

by elegantmoonchild



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Slow Burn, extremely nsfw, southside serpents, vulgarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:43:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 88,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantmoonchild/pseuds/elegantmoonchild
Summary: Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them.Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove thatshe’s no angel after all.Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, fandom, to the wonderful world of SweetVee, the passionate non-canonical pairing between Southside Serpent Sweet Pea and Northsider Veronica Lodge. This is an AU fic set in Riverdale and Manhattan, mostly at the Whyte Wyrm. Before we get into the story, I’d like to add a few things first.
> 
> For the burlesque club (The Whyte Wyrm), it’s a mix of both main stage dancing and private rooms. There are a variety of types of burlesque clubs known, and the Wyrm is of that variety, though there’s still no full nudity allowed, even in the private rooms. And there is still no inappropriate touching – for example, a patron can’t smack a dancer’s ass or grab her breasts. The main focus is still the tease, which is the hallmark of burlesque.
> 
> The language in this fic is explicit, as is the smut, so if cursing or vulgar sexual language are a turn off for you, TURN BACK NOW. You have been warned. That said – this is a slow burn and if you’re expecting there to be crazy sex in this first chapter, think again. You’ll have to work a little harder than that ;)
> 
> Nick St. Clair is in this fic, but he’s not the same rapist from the show. Again, this is an AU and not canon. He’s still not a major character, but just a heads set. 
> 
> I want to thank Morgan (youbuildmeupbeliever) for her support and constant encouragement. She was there for the inception of SweetVee and encouraged me to move forward with their pairing in “Ouroboros” when I thought people might balk at the idea. Instead, there has been a huge mass of support for them, so again, my dear, THANK YOU. I want to thank a few others, including Dire Stark (thenerdylatina), RainyStripe, Mayberrry101, and lilibug—xx, who have all latched onto the SweetVee ship with me and sent me encouraging comments/DMs. You guys are awesome and I’m happy to know there are people out there excited for this fic!
> 
> Now let’s get down to business – here’s the first chapter of “No Angel.” Enjoy ;)
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

The sky was an eerie, dreary shade of gray along the 304 upstate as Veronica Lodge sped up in her 2016 BMW Z4, the color nearly as stormy steel as the atmosphere above. There was the threat of rain and the promise of lightning ahead and she edged her foot down onto the pedal, willing the vessel to get her to Riverdale before it all came pouring down. 

The drive to Rockland County was an easy one, verging on the greater end of an hour. She often took the time to free her thoughts, throwing them out of the open skylight as the wind swept inside to caress her spot in the driver’s seat. It was her favorite part of the week, the one moment where she could sing out shamelessly while cranking the dial up on the volume of her convertible speakers, her voice shrilling along to the tune of Adele and Beyonce. The highway was less crowded than the interstate, giving her the full freedom of the road that she desired. 

It had been three solid months since she had transitioned her weekend jaunts up north, beyond the familiarity of the great Manhattan. Many in her position would have thought her crazy for making weekend, and sometimes nightly, trips back and forth from the city every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but to Veronica is was worth it. _The dancing was worth it._

She could remember her first taste of stage life, one wild night two years ago at a bachelorette party for one of her sorority girlfriends. They chose to end their night at a burlesque club, the wild delights of sinful spectating of half-naked women the perfect send off for her best friend Cheryl Blossom who was getting married to her girlfriend of three years. With the endless flow of champagne and private dances in the VIP section, the bill footed by the notoriously innumerable wealth of the Blossom family, the girls drank and danced and laughed in their own personal space, watching as scantily clad women flirted from across the room. She knew Cheryl had been drawn to the appeal of the women’s bodies, the art of their dance titillating and sensuous. Veronica, however, was pulled in by the glitz, the feathers, the seamless way each woman moved. She was mesmerized by the feminine curves, the mystique wrapped in lace and dripping with gems. When there had come an opportunity for Veronica to take the stage, an offer only available to the tune of Cheryl’s pocketbook, she stepped into the light and found freedom. 

That night, Veronica knew what it truly was to feel alive. It took her by surprise, that overwhelming rush of excitement as she inched across the stage in a seductive step pattern, the rhythm of her hips swaying to the sounds of the music blasting overhead. Though the particular club they were in decried full nudity, Veronica still found the confidence somewhere on that dance floor to peel back a layer or two of clothing, leaving behind a pair of her expensive electric blue La Perla Brazilian knickers and push-up bra. The crowd went wild as she teased and taunted, sending flirty looks toward random spectators in the audience, some of them men drawn forward with their mouths hung open in lustful shock. Her friends cheered her on, Cheryl yelling out encouraging words not entirely devoid of inappropriate jargon. 

Together, the combination of curse words, libidinous looks, and titillating hip work lifted her spirit beyond the dull grind of her everyday life. 

Growing up, Veronica Lodge had been anything but boring. She was born into an affluent family rich in wealth and legacy. Her father was an astute businessman, notorious for buying out flailing companies and turning them into goldmines. With the companionship of her just-as-keen mother, Hermione, the Lodge family catapulted themselves onto the pages of Forbes, The WSJ, and Time Magazine. Veronica was no stranger to the exposure this brought, but there was a part of her that wanted to stay hidden beneath the veil of normalcy, shying away from the socialite lifestyle that her parents had expected of her. Instead, Veronica challenged their reign by involving herself in other mundane activities, such as cheerleading and debate in high school. 

Did these things make her typical? Yes. But boring? There was still a great deal to Veronica Lodge that she kept hidden from the public eye. Internally, she craved passion, yearned for the embrace of someone who could make her blood boil and spin. She tried out a few guys in high school, exchanging her virginity for a night in the back of a football player’s truck simply because the moment had been heated and she couldn’t resist. Initially, Veronica felt shame, the pedigree of her name tainted by some lazy and quite unsatisfying romp in a beat-up truck while some redheaded guy shoved himself inside her unceremoniously and grunted for all of two minutes before he finished. But she was done – her virginity gone and now the real fun could begin. 

Veronica never considered herself a slut, the concept of a woman doing what she wanted free of unnecessary labels one she celebrated. She enjoyed the company of different men, trying out different positions and locations, trying to find that spark that she read about in magazines and romance novels. Unfortunately, that flame had yet to be found by college, and when she touched herself at night, she was still the only person who could make her come. 

All of that changed, though, the day Veronica met a more grown up Nick St. Clair. The two New Yorkers had grown up as children, playing side by side as their nannies gossiped in the park, and when he left for London after their 7th year of school, Veronica had shed actual, genuine tears. They had tried to stay in contact over the years, but the stress of their busy schedules hindered their relationship from thriving and eventually their friendship faded away into dust. 

She had nearly forgotten all about Nick until he showed up at a gala her parents were hosting, wearing a well-fitted black suit and tie and holding onto a flute of champagne with that signature St. Clair smile painted on his face. She still remembered how utterly snack-worthy he had looked, the charm wafting off of him as she approached from across the room. She thought it was so suave how he offered her his champagne, told her the sight of her had him far more drunk than the fizzy wine could ever make him. 

That night they consummated the friendship they had shelved away years before, fucking hard and fast in a hidden room in the Lodge mansion, her orgasm count settling at an incredible three. Veronica had finally found an inch of that spark and since that night, they had been inseparable. 

Of course, a Lodge and a St. Clair was a match made in fiscal heaven, according to her father. Ever the shrewd businessman, he basically viewed their relationship as a merger, and over time that’s essentially what it became. Nick had become so engrossed in his father’s dealings, working hard to impress the company board before he took over, that his time spent with Veronica had become lifeless, whittled down to a mere shell of what they had been. 

He’d come over, kiss her hello and ask about her day, then bury himself in emails and phone calls until supper was done. They’d share a quiet meal, again emails would be addressed, and eventually wind up in bed, a few short thrusts inside of her before he’d roll over and fall asleep. 

Veronica couldn’t count the nights she spent laying in the dark, wishing for more. She had thought about leaving Nick, but her father would have none of it, and truthfully as Veronica continued to age, she worried how loneliness might taste on the other side of thirty. 

She expected bitter and unwanted. 

So instead she continued her weekdays and nights biding her time with Nick and in her own office space at Lodge Industries until the weekend arrived when she’d be sailing down the freeway toward freedom. 

At first, Veronica had found employment dancing at another upscale burlesque club in Manhattan, fortunate enough to land a spot despite her lack of experience. The owner told her that her audition had been _“magnifique,”_ an absolute one-of-a-kind with the way she sparkled and shined under the lights. He told her she carried this glow about her, a rare find in dancers nowadays. Veronica figured it was also the prospect of low pay that secured her spot on the stage, her indifference to salary overshadowed by her need to just dance. 

The club hadn’t been so huge that she’d risk running into people she knew. She had made sure to steer clear the course of those establishments, venturing instead to clubs of good rapport that she had rarely heard of. She spent five glorious months at the Kitten Cove, dancing scantily clad for men in expensive suits smoking even more expensive cigars and drinking pricey scotch. Everything had changed, however, the night Nick’s father had shown up at the club, too busy exchanging handshakes with other audience members to notice her gliding across the stage. She had made a swift exit and that had been the end of her run at the Kitten Cove. 

As if by fortunate fate, Cheryl had called her up a month later, telling her about her new burlesque club that she had recently opened up in a small upstate town called Riverdale. Cheryl had a poor opinion of the town itself, but she said she had purchased the club at a steal and business had been booming ever since she had opened its doors. 

Veronica expressed interest in joining her team of dancers and Cheryl had been nothing but supportive, even offering her friend a place to stay through the weekends when Veronica chose to dance all three nights. When they bunked, their friendship had been rekindled from flickering flame to all out bonfire, and they grew closer than ever. 

Cheryl’s purchase of the club had been a sort of capricious whim spurred by the nasty divorce between her and her now ex-wife Josie. Though Cheryl had been woman enough to admit to her own faults in the relationship, she recoiled from the concept of falling apart and letting herself go. She traded in pints of ice cream and weeping into her comforter for dark, sensuous nights directing women on stage as they stripped down to their skivvies and flaunted their assets for cash. 

_Talk about taking back control and taking a big step forward for all womankind._

It was just after seven when Veronica finally pulled into the gravel parking lot of the Whyte Wyrm. She gathered her new costume pieces for her act and carried them behind the bar through the unlocked back entrance. Once she entered the narrow hallway, she rounded the corner and settled inside her personal dressing room. 

Cheryl had been generous enough to give Veronica her own dressing space. She claimed it was credited to her superior dancing skills, soon becoming the main attraction of the Wyrm with her dazzling smile and well-polished dance moves, but Veronica suspected there was a bit of nepotism involved. She knew Cheryl enjoyed her company enough to please her demands, rarely jumping through hoops for anyone else. Veronica knew Cheryl respected her, and respected her opinion, and she thought that if it were not for Veronica’s disinterest in financial gain where burlesque was concerned, Cheryl would have offered her a partnership as well. 

Veronica knew her name could not be attached to such business, though. It would shred the dignity that came with the Lodge title, and her parents would disown her from the only life she had known. 

Somethings were just not worth the risk, no matter how thrilling they felt. 

Veronica set her costume pieces down on her makeup counter and took inventory of her supplies. She still had a good half hour before she needed to prepare for her act, so she opted for a quick trip to the Wyrm’s kitchen in search for a cup of hot coffee. 

Cheryl had installed an espresso machine in the back at the request of the dancers, some of them drained of energy when time arrived for them to take the stage. The little caffeinated pick-me-up was enough to keep them dancing for hours, driven by the brown liquid to grind and seduce for better tips and better business. 

When Veronica pushed back the swing door of the kitchen, she heard the distinguished cursing of her best friend’s angry tongue. 

“Motherfucker!” Cheryl shouted from underneath the sink, her head buried inside the cabinet, the rare sight of a wrench in her hand. Veronica couldn’t help but be amused, watching as Cheryl lifted herself out of the space and pulled up to standing. When she spied her dark-haired friend leaning against the counter with a grin on her face, Cheryl scowled. 

“Goddamn sink broke on me again. This is the third time this month. I’m calling a better plumber.” 

“Who did you use this last time?” 

“Carter McGinty. Apparently, he’s one of the best here in Riverdale. Looks like I’m going to have to pay to import some actual skill from Manhattan. Or maybe Queens – I hear there’s a guy there that’s good with this sort of shit.” 

Veronica gestured to the wrench Cheryl held in her hand. “What were you doing with that? Trying to beat the damn sink to work?” 

Cheryl smirked and replied back, “Ha. I know a thing or two about repairing household items, thank you very much. I had to when I took over one of the B&B’s last fall. Another fucking sink that gave me nothing but problems.” 

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Your endless amount of skills never ceases to amaze me, Cher.” 

Cheryl set the wrench down on the counter behind her, looking at it pensively as if it were a weapon. “Yeah, well, you won’t catch me wielding that skill very often. Consider this a blue moon event, Lodge.” 

Veronica smiled and gestured to the espresso machine. “I’m about to make me a cup. Want one? You look like you could use it.” 

Cheryl’s eyebrow quirked questioningly. “And what the Hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Veronica shrugged, crossing to the coffee maker. “I’m not saying it means anything at all, but it looks like your skincare routine could use a revisit. You’ve got quite the Burberry bags under your eyes tonight, my dear.” 

Cheryl sighed. “Is it that obvious? Shit.” She crossed to the mug cabinet and grabbed herself one too. “This club is taking all I’ve got and leaving nothing for me. I swear, Veronica, it’s been like six months since I’ve had my pussy attended to.” 

Veronica winced her eyes, never quite used to the easy vulgarity that dripped from her friend’s mouth. 

“What about that chick you were seeing a few weeks ago? Midge was her name.” 

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Total hetero. Thought she could handle being with a girl but found out otherwise when we were, well… let’s just say when I was tongue deep inside her. She shut me down so fast, I had whiplash. That was one of the only times I could empathize with men – blue balls sucks ass.” 

“So I take it there was no action for Cheryl?” 

“There was no action for Cheryl.” 

Veronica pressed start on the espresso machine, watching as it began to percolate. “Well, if I also weren’t a hetero, I’d let you tap this well. I’m sure you can do a much better job than Nick.” 

“Sex still dry?” 

“Like the Sahara – one big, giant, dry, vanilla flavored desert.” 

Cheryl shook her head and clucked her tongue. “That’s a damn shame. No woman should have to live through life getting bad head.” 

Veronica sighed. “Amen.” She reached for her finished cup of espresso. “I’m going back into my dressing room to get ready. Let me know how the crowd looks after the first few numbers, okay?” 

Cheryl nodded her off as she started making her own coffee, and Veronica sipped her drink slowly as she returned to her personal space to prepare for the night’s big performance. 

///////

Veronica was busy securing the hook of her costume diamond earring, trying to focus on the clasp while she stared into the mirror above her worn bureau, when the sharp sound of Cheryl’s heels clicked into her open doorway. Dressed in a skin-tight dress adorned with sewn-on gems and emblazoned in cheetah print, paired with her signature cherry red lips, she came behind Veronica and their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Cheryl?” Veronica prompted, finally done securing the clasp of the earring back. 

Cheryl took in her appearance and smiled, running a hand softly down the back of Veronica’s hair and the column of her slim neck. “I just got the call. We have some very important clientele tonight that I need your help with.” 

Veronica tilted her head to the side. “And they would be? Is it that group of Boston businessmen again because I refuse to have another bottle of champagne poured onto my tits.” 

Cheryl shook her head. “No, no – those animals aren’t welcome back here. These clients are, well, a little bit rougher around the edges and I think they prefer something a bit stronger than sparkling wine.” 

Veronica reached out for her tube of lipstick, a deep maroon to complement the silver bejeweled costume she would be slipping into. “Then who exactly are these men?” 

“Not all men,” Cheryl was quick to correct. “In fact, it’s one of the female members that I am trying to impress. She the current frontwoman and works the books for them. I need their business.” 

“Members? Does she belong to some sort of club?” 

“You could say that,” Cheryl responded, her eyes flicking down to the cleavage visible through the top of Veronica’s robe. “They have very specific tastes and a very specific style. They’re from the area and they are very smart financially. It would only serve to help us out if we made nice.” 

“Are we that hard up for money, Cher?” 

The redhead shook her head. “No – in terms of cash flow, we’re swimming. But the part of town we’re in can be less than savory, and having their presence might make it easier to avoid cock-ups, like having random men pour champagne on your breasts, V.” She gripped the top of Veronica’s shoulder and squeezed playfully. 

Veronica reached up and grabbed a hold of Cheryl’s wrist as she began to move backward. “Cheryl, should I be scared of them?” 

Their eyes met again in the mirror and they stared for a beat, the silence building as Cheryl considered her answer. 

“No. From what I’ve heard, they’ve never had an issue with women. But if you have a problem, you need to let me know pronto. You know I don’t fuck with people that threaten my girls.” 

Veronica nodded slowly before she grinned and squeezed Cheryl’s hand lovingly. “I know you don’t, Cher. Thanks for looking out for us.” 

“Absolutely. Plus, I’m sure they’ll be great tippers.” She winked and pivoted around to leave. 

Veronica uncapped her lipstick, about to apply the color when a sudden thought hit her. She swiveled around in her chair. “Cheryl!” 

The redhead turned to face her, placing a hand on the doorframe for balance. She cocked an eyebrow in response. 

“How am I supposed to know what these… club members…. look like? I need to know who to give my attention to tonight.” 

Cheryl smirked. “They’ll be wearing leather jackets with a giant serpent on the back. You can’t miss them. You’re going to knock ‘em dead, V.” She turned to walk out. 

“And wear the red instead of that drab maroon. I want you to sparkle tonight!” She yelled in her wake. 

Veronica considered the tube in her hand and recapped it, ultimately at the mercy of her boss’s demands. Cheryl knew best, after all. She reached out for the blood red scarlet shade tucked away in the back of her lipstick stand and yanked the cap off, smearing the bold color across her plump flesh. She bit down gently on a folded tissue and puckered in the mirror. 

Cheryl was right – her look tonight was murderous and she was out to kill. 

She stood from her chair and crossed to the door of her dressing room, shutting it softly. She stepped over to a nearby Japanese partition and disrobed, slinging the mustard yellow silk over the barrier. She reached into a tin on a shelf behind her and retrieved a fresh pair of pasties, two silver sequined flowers, and applied them to her bare merlot-pigmented nipples. 

Next, she slipped into the confining silver dress, the underlay a simple nude fabric encrusted with lines of costume diamonds and silver lace. It matched the choker that adorned her neck, a single jewel drooping from the front clasp of the necklace. It had been a gift from Cheryl when she joined the group of girls that danced at the Wyrm – a crowned jewel for being one of Blossom’s best crowd-pleasers. 

Her look was completed with a pair of satin stilettos, the color a soft muted gray, and she stepped from behind the partition and inspected herself in the mirror. 

No kinks in her dress, no wrinkles in the lace. Her hair was still coiled in tight spirals, pinned up along both of her temples. 

She let out a heavy exhale and loosened the tension in her shoulders that she felt before every show. Taking one last look in the mirror for confidence, she reached up to boost her breasts in the dress’s built-in bra and nodded. 

“You look too fucking good, Lodge.” 

Just minutes later, the cue for her entrance rang out in the sexually haunting sound of Beyoncé’s “No Angel,” and Veronica took the stage. She inched out from the side cove, extending her legs out slowly in front of her as she crossed the wooden expanse of the stage. Her fingertips drew waves to accentuate her curves, caressing her sides slowly, teasingly, as her eyes swept the crowd. 

There were clumps of men scattered amongst the deep red velvet upholstered chairs surrounding the rounded curve of the stage, some sipping from rocks glasses, some tipping back beers, and some simply staring with their drinks frozen to the table, their minds too preoccupied with the provocative slide of her bedazzled body under the warm glow of the stage lights. The color gels in the lighting equipment switched from white to red to purple and back, punctuated by the change of the bass in the song. 

When Veronica reached the single chair on the stage, she crept around the side to plant herself on the seat, her right leg quickly extending out as her chest tilted forward, her shoulders leaning back to greater highlight her assets. Her left hand traveled slowly up her right arm to land on the top of her bicep where it slithered across her collarbone, coming up the column of her neck before curving around to cup her cheek. She looked out into the sea of men and flashed a wink to the fifty-something year old man in a crisp gray suit, fingering the rim of his rocks glass as he watched her perform. 

She slowly inched her back up into a sitting position, her leg still extended. Seamlessly, she bent down to reach for her ankle, her fingers dancing back up toward her hip bones. When she was sitting back up properly, she flashed a wide enticing smile and shimmied her chest to the crowd. She stood and placed her hands on her hips, spotlighting the motion of her body as she swayed across the stage to a pole that was anchored to a corner section of the stage. She reached out with both hands and ran them up the length of the pole in front of her, making sure to make eye contact with one or two of the crowd-goers as she teased. 

She rolled her hips as she swiveled and her back met the cold steel of the pole, her ringlets slowly sweeping across her shoulders. One of her hands came up to finger one of the straps of her dress and she lowered it along her bicep in the most aching pace. Her hand popped the strap ceremoniously as it drooped low and dangled, her palm coming around to caress her covered breast. Just as soon as she began to squeeze, her hand flew away, and she shot a teasing bottom bite of her lip to one of the spectators. 

She pivoted around and grasped the pole again, gripping onto it as her head tipped back, flinging the strands of her hair behind her in the empty space bathed in the warm lights of the stage. When her head rolled back up, swiveling on the top of her neck, she looked out into the crowd and caught her breath. 

There were three men sitting in one of the back booths, their stares nearly penetrating Veronica from across the room broken by the presence of two newcomers, one a short brown-haired woman with the tips of her hair painted pink and the other – the being that caused her to hold onto the air in her chest – an incredibly tall man with a shaggy mop of black hair and beady eyes that looked nearly black from her place on the stage. He wore a thick leather jacket, darker than the shade of his eyes, and denim jeans, tight around the midsection where her eyes were almost immediately drawn. She felt a sharp dagger of lust, a sudden and confusing notion, as she watched this stranger lock eyes with her, his hardened gaze accentuated with a heavy scowl, his lip quirked up in a noticeable smirk. Almost as quick as the lust struck, the reality set in that this was most likely one of the new clients Cheryl had mentioned, and suddenly Veronica wanted to do her very best to professionally impress him and the group he was joining. 

She watched as he took a seat in the booth with the other three men, his eyes still locked onto hers. When his gaze broke free to address one of the men sitting next to him, she mentally shook him off and continued her dance, her movements a bit more exaggerated with the sudden boost of confidence that came with dancing for someone she found attractive. She continued to try and make eye contact with other members of the crowd, doing her best to make decent tips, but every now and then her eyes would find themselves sweeping over to the man in the booth. 

She catalogued minor details about his appearance – the thick bulge of his biceps through the jacket, the long and thin length of his fingers, the severe-looking shape of a snake along the column of his neck. She couldn’t make out the full details in the distance between them, shadowed by the dark and dim space of the audience, but the shape was defined enough. 

For the rest of her dance, with every glance she stole, she found herself becoming increasingly frustrated, her earlier boost of confidence waning as she realized he hadn’t looked back at her since their gaze first broke. She shook it off – he wasn’t the only one she had to impress, and there was an entire room full of people that wanted to watch her dance. 

Eventually, she got down to the inner layer of her attire, the jeweled gown tossed over the back of the chair as she sauntered across the stage in a pair of high-waist black lace panties and the silver flower pasties, her breasts jiggling as she shimmied and shook. 

From across the room, Sweet Pea watched her from his peripheral view. Her gaze had been unnerving when he first stepped into the establishment, and he felt a bit uncomfortable leering at her from across the room. Though he knew this was the exact place meant for that kind of behavior, it still left a bad taste in his mouth to think about strange men gawking at a beautiful woman as she sought to entertain them. Besides, he was here on business and didn’t seek to participate in the lascivious ogling by old horny men. 

However, he couldn’t deny the incredible way her body moved. When he had walked into the room, the lights on the stage had drawn him right to her, a spotlight above the most heavenly and delicious looking woman he had ever seen. She was in a sparkling dress, the flash and shimmer of the jewels another beacon that grabbed his attention. Her hair, dark as midnight like his, was curled up, looking tight and restrained – the complete opposite of the sexy, tempting tease of her dance that practically begged the audience to become sexually tense then let go. When she had angled her back leg up in an arch to meet her hand, slowly yanking off the thin fabric of her panty hose in an achingly slow amount of time, he felt the flesh in the front section of his jeans twitch. 

Despite her overwhelmingly sexual appearance, she had two brilliant doe-eyes of brown that hinted of innocence tucked into a well-angled face that looked smooth as satin. He figured the innocent vibe worked well to contrast with the sensual wave of her very adult body, and he had to give her props – it worked well. When the dress fell to the floor, he couldn’t help but stare as the silver adorning her breasts sparkled under the lights of the stage, making them look like glistening roses under moonlight. He licked his lips, suddenly hungry and feeling an uncomfortable ache between his legs. 

“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Toni asked beside him. She tossed her brown and pink hair back behind her shoulders, shooting him a suggestive glance before her eyes returned to the show in front of her. 

Sweet Pea shrugged, not daring to give too much away in front of his second in command. “Yeah, I guess she’s pretty hot.” 

He felt a sharp smack land on the arm on the other side of his body. He turned in his seat to glare at Fangs next to him, who was gesturing with his hand to the woman on stage. “Dude, she’s a fuckin’ smoke show! She’s the hottest attraction they’ve had all night.” 

Sweet Pea clucked his tongue. “I’ve seen hotter.” 

“The fuck you have!” Fangs replied, his facial expression sending the message that he didn’t believe a single word Sweet Pea was saying. “Goddamn, the things I would do to this chick…”

“Down boy,” Toni warned. “We’re here to scout out business, try out the drinks and check out the chicks. It’s not like anyone is getting their dick sucked tonight.” 

“Speak for yourself, Topaz. Isn’t that what these girls do? Private shows and head in the champagne room?” 

Toni scoffed, shaking her head. “Fangs, you’re a fucking idiot. This is burlesque, not some back alley strip club with chicks riddled with bullet holes and stretchmarks looking to make a buck. These are classy women, herded by an even classier woman.” 

Toni’s eyes swept across the room to fall on Cheryl as the redheaded club owner was in deep discussion with a crowd-goer. 

“Well, what the fuck is burlesque then anyway, and why do we give a shit if we’re not even going to get our dicks wet?” 

“Because there are more important things in this life than shooting your load into some strange chick, you moron.” Sweet Pea sent Fangs a sneer, rolling his eyes. “Things like good business and money.” 

“Exactly, Pea. This place is bringing a whole new group of people into Riverdale and if we want to make good practice of selling our product, we need to get in good with this place. The owner has discussed with me the possibility of a little job swap – we can do business on her property if we promise to protect her assets.” Toni licked her lips. “And these assets just happen to be incredible looking women. We could do worse.” 

“We could do worse,” Fangs agreed, though he was still irritated the promise of a simple hand job was off the table. “So do these girls strip at all? I mean, this one’s got her tits out but you can’t see more than that.” 

“Nah, not at this establishment. I mean, according to the owner, nudity can be bargained for a special price but it’s never anything more than nipples. It’s not like you’re going to see bare pussy strutting around here. Burlesque is all about the tease, and baby these girls tease like none other.” 

Sweet Pea turned his attention back to the girl on the stage, her dark hair swaying back and forth as she shook and shimmied to the final beats of the song. Tease was an understatement. Though his focus was still on work, the business of the Serpents always his top priority, his dick had other plans and his pants felt incredibly tight. 

The lights changed and the song ended, transitioning to a softer tune signaling the return of Cheryl to the stage as she introduced the next performer. The dark-haired dancer from before had disappeared, presumably backstage. 

A pretty waitress with long blonde hair and hazel eyes came to their booth, asking for drink orders. When the time came for Sweet Pea to order, he declined. Booze hadn’t been his thing ever since he returned from the service. 

The years spent in the Marines had taught Sweet Pea an immeasurable load about discipline and self-control, these lessons transpiring after his tour ended and he had been medically discharged from the military. A bullet to the arm – that’s all it took. He fought to stay in the service, but his request had been denied, especially after several tests with his rehabilitation team proved his arm had been permanently altered, the motion and rotation of his shoulder not completely the same as before. Marines needed full function of their arms to shoot. The gunshot was a harsh reminder. 

It could have been so easy for Sweet Pea to fall into bad habits straight out of the service. He remembered why he had initially joined – to escape the fate of his alcoholic father there in the Southside of Riverdale, NY. He himself had succumbed to the powers of the drink at a young age, spending his high school years binge-drinking and fucking his way through his entire senior class. The promise of a Serpent jacket got him pussy from any girl he desired, but after time the charm wore off, and Sweet Pea had to take a long hard look in the mirror to see he was quickly turning into his old man. 

When he joined the Marines, he thought it would be his ticket out of Riverdale, out of the Serpents, out from under the crippling, gin-soaked thumb of his angry father. Those years in training, from boot camp to combat, had been the most thrilling days of his life, and for once Sweet Pea thought he had found purpose. 

He became quickly disenchanted, however, shortly after his first tour overseas began. When he watched a friend of his, one of the few trusted confidantes he had, take a bullet to the neck, Sweet Pea found the charm of the military seep out of him like the blood from his friend’s body. 

It didn’t take away the honor he felt being a Marine. He had worked hard for that title, and still it had given him the chance to escape the Southside, even if it was temporary. However, the death count that continued to climb as he watched fellow solider after fellow solder fall to their knees in front of death became too much at times, and there was a small piece of Sweet Pea that was happy to see his exposure to the bloodshed end. 

The deaths of his friends still haunted him, though, his shitty life enhanced by the visions of his comrades covered in blood and brain matter. He would wake up in the dingy motel he rented weekly, drenched in sweat and wishing he, too, were dead. 

When he was discharged, Sweet Pea got a hard lesson in the fickleness of government promises. The funds set aside for disabled veterans barely stretched to him, and in the end he found he had to resort to getting in with the Serpents after all, a future he had literally fought so hard to avoid. 

It hadn’t been entirely rotten. He had a decent relationship with Toni, his second-in-command, falling just below their current president, FP Jones, who was currently serving time in prison for battery and possession of illegal substances. 

_Botched fucking job._

Toni and Sweet Pea understood each other in certain ways, both of them possessing a hardened exterior that protected a soft inner layer. Sweet Pea hated to admit he had a soul, but it was there, and because of that he had respect for those some of the Serpents couldn’t – including women like the dancers here. It wasn’t that the Serpents disrespected them, but idiots like Fangs would say derogatory shit and that would knock the club a peg down in feminist enthusiasm. 

Fangs wasn’t a total shithead either, though. He and Sweet Pea got along well most of the time, and the easygoing nature of their friendship made working together essentially a breeze. Sweet Pea just had to make sure Fangs didn’t get himself into stupid trouble, and sometimes that became a hassle. 

Sweet Pea wasn’t completely against the business dealings of the Serpents either, now that he saw what was behind the curtain. Mostly weed deals, some light cocaine – never anything heavier. Sweet Pea had seen the effects of the harder shit on people he cared about, people he once knew in the military who had been tossed out by the American government, and he vowed to never get involved with that shit in any capacity. 

Sweet Pea had his morals and he did his damnedest to make sure he stayed true to them. 

The best part of this entire ordeal, though, with the Serpents – he got to ride his Harley again. 

After the rest of the Serpents had finished placing their drink orders, Sweet Pea spied the redheaded club owner coming their way, her face dressed in a playful smirk. Immediately, Toni stood and greeted the woman with a kiss on the hand, an oddly old-fashioned gesture from Toni’s usual stern handshake. 

“Cheryl, you look divine tonight, as does this place. Your girls,” Toni moaned, “are fantastic. My men here can’t seem to remember how to blink.” 

The redhead smiled, the small hint of a blush erupting across her cheeks as a result of Toni’s hand peck. “Aren’t they wonderful? They’re my best group yet.” She surveyed the group of bikers before her. “Toni, which one is your next-in-command? I’d like to offer him a private dance from one of my best girls.” 

Cheryl turned at the sound of another pair of heels and shot Veronica a smile. “And here she is now.” 

Sweet Pea’s mouth suddenly grew dry at the sight of the dark-haired dancer, strutting over in a new outfit, peach silk flowing around her in a robe-like cut draped over her luscious looking creamy tan skin. Underneath, there was a peek-a-boo of a teal lace bra, and the tightness that had begun to subside in his pants came back full force. 

She shot him a look that hinted at mystique, and he found himself growing more and more curious about her. However, the air she held in her posture filled him with instant annoyance, her pedigree obviously shining through in the dank space of the club around them. He felt self-conscious, the rough leather and dirty boots that adorned him making him seem like a mere pauper in front of this elegant, prim princess before him. 

She stopped beside Cheryl and shot the group an award-winning smile. _This must be how she makes the big bucks,_ Sweet Pea thought, immediately turned off by her attempt at charisma. 

“Good evening, gentlemen.” She turned to address Toni. “Lady.” 

“Toni, fellow Serpents, this here is Veronica Lodge, better known as Lola Mi Nue – the brightest gem in all of Blossom’s bunch here at the Whyte Wyrm. You won’t find a better dancer out there – though I guess I don’t have to tell you that. You just watched her dance.” 

_At least she has the modesty to appear bashful,_ Sweet Pea thought, his eyes glued to her every facial expression as it went from confident to humble and back to self-possessed in a mere matter of seconds. 

Cheryl turned to address Toni directly again. “So who’s next in line? I know Veronica here would like to show them some of the moves she didn’t perform on stage.” 

Toni turned to face Sweet Pea, her eyebrow quirked in curiosity. It just so happened, by sheer legacy alone of his father’s former place in the Serpents, Sweet Pea had risen to third in line for the throne. 

“What do you say, Pea? Care for a dance?” Toni wiggled her eyebrows at him and he knew she would consider him a fool to turn this woman down. 

However, Sweet Pea had his own agenda tonight and getting a lap dance or whatever it was that went on behind the walls of the VIP room was not on his list. 

“No thanks. I think I’m fine just sitting back and watching the rest of the show.” 

All three of the women appeared surprised in different ways. Toni looked pissed, her suggestive grin turning down in an irritated scowl. Cheryl looked a bit confused, though he could read the message clear as day on her face – _your fucking loss, dude._

Veronica, on the other hand, looked miffed, her shoulders immediately tensing up. For a moment, he felt accomplished, successfully knocking this prissy chick off of her glittery pedestal. He could tell she wasn’t used to being rejected in this setting. 

“Pardon me?” she asked, and her choice of words only enhanced how he felt. _This bitch is snobby as Hell._

“I said I don’t want a dance, princess.” 

“And why the Hell not? It’s not every night Cheryl generously offers one of her best performers up as a service to a guest free of charge.” 

“Someone’s a little full of themselves, aren’t they?” 

The air around them suddenly became tense and he could sense Toni’s anger boiling to his right. 

Veronica sneered. “It’s just a simple fact. I’m not even making a single cent off of this.” 

Sweet Pea shrugged and it made her even more pissed. “I don’t care about your transactions around here. I just don’t want a dance from you, plain and simple.” 

Veronica shrugged casually, trying to change her temperament and maintain her composure in front of the other clientele around them. “Fine then. Your loss.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be missing much,” she heard him mutter as she was trying to walk away. She swiftly pivoted on her heel and stared daggers into him. 

“What was that?” 

Sweet Pea tilted his chin up to her, challenging her. “I said I don’t think I’ll be missing much.” 

Veronica paused, calculating her next reply. In the end, she looked him up and down obviously, willing herself to look past his attractive features to disguise her face with a look of disgust. “I think we’re both better off. I don’t see anything here worthy enough for my dance anyway.” 

Sweet Pea scoffed, his sardonic attitude turning sour at her insult. “You would be so lucky to have me alone in one of those rooms, princess.” 

“Unlikely,” she replied and turned on her heel to stomp off, the peach silk of her cloak billowing behind in her wake. 

Toni quickly apologized to Cheryl as Fangs stared at Sweet Pea incredulously. “Dude…” was all he could mutter. 

When Cheryl walked off, Toni returned to her seat and Sweet Pea could feel her seething. 

“You fuck this up for me, Pea, and I’ll have your fucking nuts, you got me?” 

Sweet Pea chuckled, pulling out his pack of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket, anxious to blow off the tension from his recent encounter with the raven-haired harpy. 

“Got it, Toni.” 

///////

“The fucking nerve of that jackass, Cheryl! He dare to refuse a dance with me? He looked at me like I was a piece of rotten garbage stuck to the bottom of his shoe.” 

Cheryl watched as Veronica paced, throwing articles of clothing around the room as she stripped down to dress for the ride home to Manhattan. The club was getting ready to close down and Cheryl had a feeling Veronica would be stewing in her dressing room, rocked by her “less than friendly” confrontation with the Serpent named Sweet Pea. 

“I don’t think it was quite that bad, babe.” She was answered with a stiff glare. 

“It wasn’t fucking great. Like – can you believe the nerve that douchebag has? He acts like he’s some Goddamn prize. He has no fucking idea.” Veronica punctuated the end of her rant by tossing a compact of powder into her travel bag. She plopped down in her makeup chair and began to tangle her hair up into a tight bun on the top of her head. She looked at Cheryl through the reflection in the mirror. 

“Do you think he was right to refuse a dance with me?” 

Cheryl looked confused. “I think he’s an idiot for denying you, especially after I caught him watching you intently throughout your dance. I didn’t take the tall, broody type to say no to a hot as fuck woman with a perfect body.” 

Veronica shot her a quick grin. “Thanks. Even if it’s just a pity compliment.” 

Cheryl shook her head and came behind Veronica, towering above her makeup chair. “No pity whatsoever. If I was to pity anyone, it would be him, but he made his own choice and he’ll have to live with that when he sees you dance again.” 

Veronica exhaled swiftly. “Ugh, I forgot – security detail. Looks like that fuckhead is going to be around here more often.” 

Cheryl pursed her lips. “Afraid so, sugar. If you want, though, as a consolation I bet I can convince Toni to order the other Serpents to kick his ass. I’m sure they already think he’s lost his marbles. You were looking like an absolute snack tonight and they all saw that.” 

Veronica smiled, her anger beginning to ease. “Thanks for cheering me up, Cher. You really are a peach.” 

Cheryl kissed the top of her head lovingly and made for the doorway. “We’re going to a bar down by Pickens Park if you want to join.” 

Veronica shook her head. “No thanks. Not tonight. I just don’t think I’m up for it.” 

Cheryl nodded. “Okay. See you back home then?” 

“Unfortunately, I have an engagement back in the city tomorrow morning so I’ll be going back to Manhattan tonight. But I’ll be back tomorrow. I put myself on the schedule.” 

Cheryl nodded once more and departed, leaving Veronica alone to gather her things and gather her thoughts. She still couldn’t believe this random man, who for all purposes of this club should be gnawing at his own arm for a chance to watch her dance for him, turned her down, rejected her, told her “no,” which is something Veronica wasn’t used to hearing. 

Through her anger, she had to admit her confidence had been shaken, her ego severely bruised by the acute shock of his rejection. Veronica was not only used to getting her way, but she was used to men falling over themselves to be near her. This was all built from the confidence she garnered dancing on stage, and for once she began to doubt her ability to dance, doubt her love for the profession entirely. 

Rage seethed through her again and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. 

A bubble bath and good, expensive wine would make this whole mess go away. 

_Fuck that guy,_ she thought. _The snakes can have him._

///////

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us for a nightcap, V? Drinks are on me.” Cheryl called to Veronica from across the bar, busy switching off the lights of the stage areas, shutting everything down for the night. 

Veronica slung her purse strap over her shoulder, hiking it up over the cotton material of her simple pale blue crop top. “I’m good, Cher. I think I’m going to head back to Manhattan, soak my feet in a giant tub with a glass of ’87 Cabernet. Thanks, though.” 

Cheryl nodded, her heels clicking across the wooden flooring as she joined Veronica by the club’s entrance. “You deserve it, babe. You had one Hell of a dance tonight. Which one was that? _Diamond in the Rough?”_

“Nope. Parisian Fancy. It’s one of my newer acts.” 

“Well, I like it. Keep it in your rotation.” 

Veronica pushed the heavy metal door to the outside, greeting them with a sudden gust of cool night air accentuated by the scent of the early evening rainstorm. It was still warm enough to go jacket-free, but Veronica couldn’t help but bring her arms inward to draw in a bit of extra heat, her arms mostly exposed by the short cap sleeves of her shirt. 

A commotion in the front row of the parking lot caught her attention. The remaining Serpents who had yet to leave were having a nightcap of their own, one of them cracking open a fresh can of beer and taking a hearty swig. When he caught sight of Veronica, he lowered the can from his lips and wiped his mouth with the forearm of his leather jacket. 

“What’s up, sweet cheeks? Feel like joining us for a drink?” 

Veronica tried to refrain from showing the distaste on her face that she felt inside. She offered a simple and short grin as she continued to walk toward her convertible. “No thanks.” 

The biker watched her as if confused by her reply. She was starting to get the impression these guys weren’t used to being turned down. “What the fuck? Our beer not good enough for you, princess?” 

“I like beer. It’s just that nothing compares to my wine collection, boys.” 

Her eyes moved from the vocal Serpent to the tall man standing a few bodies away, his brown eyes watching her, his face painted in what she figured was his signature sneer. It deepened when they made eye contact and she felt the peach fuzz on her back bristle with irritation. 

“But does your wine come with a big, fat dick?” The same loud Serpent reached down with his vacant hand and gripped the bulge in the front of his tight denim jeans suggestively. He leered at her and tipped his head upward. Around him, all of the Serpents exploded into laughter and other lewd comments, one of them licking his lips as he looked her up and down. Suddenly, the distance between them felt too small. 

Veronica’s lips curled up in repugnance. “You guys are disgusting.” 

“Best fuck of your life,” the biker promised, puckering his lips and sending her a kiss across the parking lot. 

“I highly doubt that,” Veronica threw back, willing her legs to move toward her car at a faster pace. 

“Come on!” he pleaded. “Let us take you for a _ride.”_

“I wouldn’t bother, Mustang. She already looks like she’s been rode hard and put away wet.” 

Veronica shot a lethal glare in Sweet Pea’s direction, livid at his baseless assumption and his audacity. 

“Excuse me?” she asked, her mouth formed into a thin, nearly lipless line. 

“I think you heard me just fine,” Sweet Pea countered, folding his arms across his chest, flexing the firm muscles beneath his coarse black leather. 

“You have no idea who I am or what I do, or _who_ I do, for that matter. Now, if you’ll pardon my haste, I’ve got a hot bath far the fuck away from here calling my name.” 

Sweet Pea refrained from responding, but the Serpent named Mustang only licked his lips, his attitude back to utter shamelessness. “Mercy me…”

Veronica made some sort of gagging noise and rolled her eyes. Behind her, Cheryl was finishing up securing the alarm and bolting all of the locks on the front door. She approached the Serpents and tsked them. 

“You boys may be my guests tonight but I don’t tolerate sexual harassment toward any of my staff, no matter their profession.” Her heels clicked madly and slow across the gravel lot, stopping just short of Toni, who sent her a reassuring grin before turning to address the other Serpents. 

“You heard her, asshats. You’re Serpents, not pigs. Now shut the fuck up and mount up. We’re about to hit Pickens Park.” 

Veronica slowed down enough to catch Toni and Cheryl exchanging a few words, ending with Toni offering a separate helmet to the redhead. Veronica smirked as she watched Cheryl refuse the head gear, gesturing to her parked Mercedes a few parking spots away. _Curious._

Before Veronica could swivel around to bridge the gap between her and her car, her eyes caught Sweet Pea’s one last time. Immediately, she was pissed off. Somehow, there was a part of her that expected him to not be as lewd as the other Serpents, hoping that maybe his refusal for a dance chocked up to him being simply not interested in the regular leering and salacious behavior that typically went on at the Whyte Wyrm. 

The fact that he not only stood still amongst his misogynistic peers, but also participated in her humiliation just served to fuel her rage. 

She threw open the driver side door of her convertible and slid in, tossing her purse in the passenger seat. She locked the doors for good measure, not quite feeling completely safe with the Serpents around despite her friend and their boss’s reprimands. She turned the key to the ignition and began to pull forward into the near empty lot, peeling around to head toward the exit. 

In her rearview mirror, she watched as Sweet Pea mounted his motorcycle, his eyes still glued to the back of her vehicle as she drove off. 

She raged to angry chick rock and inflamed personal speeches all the way back to Manhattan. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them. 
> 
> Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove that _she’s no angel after all._
> 
> Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, you guys -- 500+ hits for a crackship I worried would never make it off the ground? You are all so amazing, I could cry! I'm so happy you have all decided to give SweetVee a chance. I've got another slow burn coming at ya right now, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> A special thank you to @xoheatherkw on tumblr for providing some insight into “ex-Marine” vs. “former Marine.” You’ll find a special piece of dialogue later in the chapter involving that little piece of info, dedicated to her. Thank you for speaking up and offering me feedback! I am always open to new thoughts, concerns, comments. Hit me up on tumblr (elegantmoochild) anytime. My virtual door is always open!
> 
> And for those of you calling me the SweetVee Queen.... you guys are wonderful LOL! 
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

The following night, just before Veronica was getting ready for her number, she decided to do a small lap around the audience, eyeing potential customers who’d be interested in a private dance, which equaled extra cash for her weekend haul. 

She was decked out in a sheer red cloak with shoulder pads covered in fluffy scarlet feathers, covering a bedazzled matching bralette and French knickers with garters connected to stark black thigh-highs. Her heels for the night were six inches of sharp red gloss, and they snapped across the wooden floor as she flitted from booth to booth, sending small winks and engaging in simple exchanges with some of the early customers for the night, hoping to entice them to stay long enough for her dance – and to rack up a tab at the bar. 

It was all very strategic, but that was part of the appeal of dancing at the Wyrm. Veronica had her own game that she controlled, her own technique for securing business and garnering an audience for her performance, which was always one of the last ones on the roster. Men – and some women – would travel miles just to watch her dance, catch her twirl and tease under the bright lights of the Whyte Wyrm’s main room stage. Cheryl was a shrewd club owner and recognized placing Veronica toward the end of the night meant longer stays by the audience members, which equated to the potential for larger bar tabs and more opportunities for the other girls to make cash from private dances in the pricey VIP lounges. 

Veronica had to respect how easily Cheryl managed to maintain the integrity of her girls’ dignity while essentially pimping out her business techniques onto them. Veronica personally took charge of her own methods, the confidence of catching men’s beady eyes glued to her assets fuel for her dance, but she recognized not every girl at the Wyrm carried the same sense of assertiveness. 

Veronica looked around the room, surveying the amount of empty chairs left to be filled with potential patrons. It was a Saturday night, and that was their busiest night of the week, so she expected the crowd to build before too long. Her eyes swept across the space and fell upon the front door, guarded by a new body she just barely recognized. 

It was one of the Serpents, the one she remember had been sitting next to the man Toni had called “Pea” the night before, whatever the Hell that meant. This guy was shorter, standing just below 6’0” and his build was a bit stockier, a bit more muscular and sinewy. He sported a well-trimmed dark brown crew cut, and wore the signature Southside Serpents patch on a sleeveless leather cut, a basic white cotton tee beneath. He had a toothpick in his mouth, dangled between the right side of his teeth, and he seemed to be engaging in some crosstalk with the bartender in the small space between the front door and the long bar. 

Veronica was amazed at how fast Cheryl had worked, securing some sort of arrangement with the Serpents just overnight. It seemed the new security detail would begin tonight, though she wondered if maybe this was some sort of trial run. What Cheryl had given them in return, she didn’t know, but there was a great part of her that was uninterested. No good could come in getting her hands muddy with business she had no part of. She just came here to dance – the dealings behind closed doors could be left to the others in charge. 

For a brief moment, Veronica felt a twinge of disappointment that the tall Serpent she had verbally tangled with the night before wasn’t present, however that notion was quickly dismissed when she remembered the shitty things he had said. Even her bubble bath and half a bottle of the Cabernet couldn’t wash away the harsh taste he had left in her mouth. 

It still rattled her nerves to think of how easy it was for him to reject her. If she was the type of woman who was completely honest with herself, she’d admit that his insults had only bolstered her efforts to look beyond amazing this evening, adding a few extra touches to her makeup to complete a smoldering palette that she thought could bring any man to his knees. She had planned a special performance of one of her favorite acts – Fire Eater in Barcelona. If that didn’t make him want to eat his words, she would have to admit defeat. 

However, the fact that he was absent only fueled her annoyance that much more. 

The Serpent at the door turned to face her and shot her a smile, beckoning her over. She was tempted to blow him off and return to her dressing room, but she remembered Cheryl’s advice the night before to play nice, so she crossed the floor to him, her cloak flowing softly behind her. 

“Good evening, beautiful. I don’t think we got the chance to get better acquainted last night. The name’s Fangs.” 

“Fangs?” Veronica asked, the hint of a smirk starting to form on her lips. 

“That’s right. Fangs Fogarty.” 

Veronica couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Fangs looked at her like he wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or join in. “What’s wrong with Fangs?” 

Veronica waved a hand as she tried to contain her laughter. “Nothing. It’s just so… predictable. For a Serpent, that is. Do they issue these names to you guys when you get your jacket?” 

Fangs shrugged casually. “Nah. I came up with the name myself. Real name is Fred, much fucking worse.” 

Veronica bit back another laugh. “I don’t know about that. Neither of them seem to fit.”

“It could be worse. At least my name’s not Sweet Pea.” Then he looked around, paranoid, to see if he had been overheard. “Of course, don’t fucking tell him I said that. Shit.” 

Veronica’s ears perked up at the mention of Sweet Pea’s name, finally getting the complete nickname. She offered Fangs a small grin. “Don’t worry – my lips are sealed.” 

He nodded, grateful, then his eyes took in her appearance. He let out a soft whistle. “Speaking of lips, I know Sweet Pea threw away his chance for a dance, but maybe you’d be interested in granting me one. We could go back to the VIP room, get to know each other a little better.” He offered her a wink and she was too amused to be revolted. 

“What’s the color of your money, Fangs?” 

He chuckled and made a quick grimace with his face. “As of now, I think I might need to start selling my body to make ends meet.” He turned in a slow demeanor, tossing his head behind his shoulder in a flirty manner. “What do you say? Think it’s worth some good money?” 

She took a step back to assess his appearance. “I think you’ve got a good shot. How do you feel about wearing a bra?” 

“Hate the damn things. Useless scrap of fabric, if you ask me.” 

Veronica’s grin grew as she began to feel some sort of camaraderie with Fangs. It was nice to make allegiances in unlikely places, she surmised. 

She tossed her head back to catch the time on the neon clock behind the bar. She guessed she had about an hour before her performance and she wanted to do a few touch ups on her face before she took the stage. 

“Well, Fangs – it’s been a slice. I’ve got to get ready for the show.” 

He reached out for her hand and she allowed him to take it. He planted an obvious kiss on the inside of her palm and her smile grew. Though she recognized it as a romantic gesture, somehow the air between them felt casual. 

“Thanks for your time, duchess. Save me a wink on stage?” 

She nodded, retracting her hand after he kissed it for a second time. “Of course. I’ll be looking for you.” 

She turned on her heel and headed back to the dressing room, feeling her spirits lift for the first time that evening. Though Sweet Pea hadn’t been there for her to impress, it was nice to be reminded that other people were affected by her charm so simply, and it was a welcome change to find a Serpent in the bunch that treated her as a woman and not as someone less. 

///////

The lights came up on the stage, a brilliant wash of red and orange, the perfect setting for her fire dance. Though actual fire was not on the menu, Veronica’s dance was proven to be, time and time again, a true scorcher. She inched her way across the stage, her arms high above her head, traveling slowly down the length of her torso. They landed on her bare midriff and clutched around her body, swaying to the beat and aggressive lyrics of The Weeknd’s “Enemy.” 

This set included a metal ring that dangled low on the stage, perfect for her to straddle and levitate above the floor. She sauntered over to the ring, the lights changing with every soft drag of her heel, and when she settled before the device, she shimmied slowly, rubbing her hands down to her ankles and up to her breasts. She sent the audience a wink as she gripped her chest suggestively. 

She sat back onto the ring and held onto the curved metal pole as she awaited her ascent. While the stagehand worked the crank, she kicked her legs playfully, shaking her loose black curls behind her, leaning back safely enough while still showing off her perky breasts, covered in a midnight black shell-shaped bra. When she was a few feet off the ground, her eyes flew toward the front door, expecting to see Fangs there ready for her promised wink. Who she did not expect to see, however, was the scowling form of Sweet Pea guarding the door, though currently his attention was drawn directly to her sensuous dance. 

At first, she felt panic. Fangs was nowhere to be seen, and she had already dismissed the thought that Sweet Pea would be there at all that evening. Her attitude changed quickly, and next her only ambition was proving him wrong, reverting back to her earlier intentions of making him eat his words. As she watched his dark eyes survey her body from the tips of her dangling toes to the tops of her fingers that clutched the round ring of metal, lingering on the heaving mounds covered in the black satin, she smirked, realizing she was already halfway to accomplishing that feat. 

Driven by a sudden sense of boldness, she shot him a wink and licked her lips in a wide “O,” and laughed to herself when he quickly looked away, realizing he had been caught in the act. 

Truthfully, he couldn’t help but be driven to the sight of her. He had never seen her look sexier, wearing nothing but some tight black bra and high-waist panty set, her hair tousled in a soft wave of curls, more relaxed than her look last night. Her aura, however, was far more fierce, fire emanating from her eyes as she scorched every person in the audience with her gaze. She had chosen to go barefoot, giving her the appearance of a desert woman dancing around the flames in some mountain gulch. 

When they locked eyes again, and she shot him the most seductive look he had ever seen, he had to look away. It pissed him off immediately, her brash move to call him out from across the room paired with the instant hard-on he got watching her lick her lips like she did, imagining for the briefest moment what it might feel like to have that hot tongue of hers lick his cock up and down, tip to base. He felt his balls clench and the scowl on his face deepened. 

All around him, men are various legal ages sat around, lost in the show as they sipped on alcoholic beverages, and for the first time in a long while Sweet Pea was jealous of their ability to drink without consequence. Instead, he dug for his pack of cigarettes in his jacket, retrieving one and lighting it. The deep inhale he took was heavenly, the tip glowing bright orange in the dim red shadows around him. 

The nicotine helped to relax the tension he felt in shoulders and his groin. He took another drag and dared a glance back at the stage, catching the sight of her in nothing but her panties, the tips of her breasts covered in small sequin flames of red and amber. She had dismounted from the metal ring, instead sauntering from the behind the contraption to the front of the stage. Her hair swept from side to side, and her brown doe-eyes narrowed seductively, doing her best to entice every patron there. 

She truly knew what she was doing and though it initially pissed him off, he had to give her credit. It was obvious she knew her crowd, knew the right angles and moves to play up to better the outcome of her tips. Though she was incredibly sexy, which any red blooded American man could recognize, above all else she was very astute. He couldn’t help but admire her for that. She was there to dance, there to make money, and she had succeeded in the best way possible. How could he fault her for that – even if he thought she was capable of putting it on a little thick? 

He felt Toni’s loud presence creep up beside him. He turned to face her, careful to blow his cigarette smoke in the opposite direction and not in her face. 

“What’s kicking, boss lady?” 

Toni reached inside Sweet Pea’s jacket, a gesture he had grown used to, and retrieved his pack of cigarettes, stealing one for herself before lighting it. As she let out her first exhale, she tipped her head toward the stage. 

“Are you going to behave tonight?” 

Sweet Pea followed the direction of her head gesture and his eyes locked onto Veronica’s before she turned and walked off stage. He shrugged in response. 

“I’m here to do a job, so what do you think?” 

“And if she offered you a dance tonight? You going to keep being a dick to her then?” 

Sweet Pea looked at her precariously. “You know something I don’t?” 

Toni shook her head easily. “Not necessarily. I’m just asking – if the circumstances tonight ended up as they were last night, are you going to turn her down again? It wouldn’t bode well to fill these girls’ heads with some sort of rebuffed nonsense. They need to shine to make cash.” 

“Their financial livelihood is not my concern, Toni.” 

“But their financial livelihood is now directly linked to our own. The better they dance, the better the crowd they bring in. That equals better sales on our end, plus a small cut of the profit for our security detail. I may have done a little negotiating last night.” 

Sweet Pea huffed. “I’m sure that’s not all you did with that fast talking tongue of yours.” 

Toni couldn’t help but laugh. “Mind your own shit, SP. Though maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to get that dusty dick of yours tuned up once in a while.” She turned to step away, pivoted. “Don’t be a shithead, Sweet Pea. We need this gig.” 

She turned on the heel of her black work boots and hiked off in the other direction toward the end of the bar where Cheryl sat counting a stack of bills behind the counter. 

He let out a long sigh, crushing the cigarette underneath his boot heel. He leaned down to pick up the butt and tossed it in a bin near the front entrance. A few other men walked in, IDs in hand for him to investigate, otherwise the crowd inside stayed steady, nearly at capacity. Fangs was standing guard outdoors, monitoring the number of occupants inside with the growing line of men outside. Sweet Pea was quick to realize Saturday was going to be their regularly busy night. 

The next half hour was calm, the only excitement the rowdy hoots and hollers when the last girl of the night stepped onto the stage to send the crowd home with a brilliant goodbye. By that point, several of the other girls, including Veronica, were making their rounds, dressed in scantily clad attire as they perched on the laps of random gentlemen in the crowd. Despite himself, Sweet Pea kept close tabs on Veronica, and watched as she leaned into the man she was sitting next to and whispered something in his ear. The man’s surprised and aroused face suddenly made the hair on the back of Sweet Pea’s neck stand up. 

He turned to look away, working to maintain his composure as he watched a few of the other girls work their magic on the patrons. One girl, dressed in a dark gray corset with a steampunk-style hat, wiggled her hips to the cheers of the men at one booth, blowing them simple kisses and showing off her cleavage playfully. Another was gently tugging at the offered wrist of another male, leading him off in the direction of the VIP lounges. 

Sweet Pea smirked. Judging by the long legs and incredible hips on that particular gal, he knew the guy was in for one Hell of a show. 

It was then that he felt the first true twinge of regret for turning down Veronica’s offer for a dance. He turned to watch her again as she glided to another table, the amazingly smoky color of her eye makeup making her seem that much more enigmatic. How would the dance have gone? Would she have kept her distance, swaying for him while he leered from a chair across the room? Would she have straddled him in a solo booth, grinding on the air above him, careful not to touch, all tease? 

The mystery of Veronica Lodge suddenly became compelling, and instead of pushing away the thoughts of who she was or what she did, he wanted to know more. See more. 

As soon as he turned to face the other direction, he heard a commotion coming from the middle of the main room. He yanked his head around to see some guy with his hands up, trying to bargain with an angry-looking Veronica, who was clutching her red silk robe against her body protectively. 

He surfed his way through the crowd, pushing back a few patrons who had gathered to watch the showdown. When he got near them, however, Sweet Pea could see Veronica was handling her own, telling the guy off with a stream of choice words, some expletive, some more proper. He could tell she was trying not to tarnish the atmosphere around them, but there was that twinge of pride he felt watching her tell the stranger to essentially “keep his mitts to himself.” 

If he thought for one second it wasn’t a complete turn on to watch her turn from damsel to self-defender, he’d be overwhelmingly wrong. As he watched the man apologize, his face twisted in a mixture of embarrassment and his own arousal at her fierce independence, it only confirmed what he was beginning to realize – Veronica Lodge was somebody who knew exactly what she was doing. 

She huffed as she walked in his direction, her eyes coming up to look him dead in the eye as she passed him. 

“What?” she asked curtly. “Thought I asked for it?” 

He didn’t get a chance to respond as she stomped off away from him, but he knew he deserved whatever she threw at him in that moment. He had been unforgivably cruel last night and said some things about a person he didn’t quite understand. Sweet Pea was a stubborn man, pride practically tattooed on his taut tan skin, but he could admit he had made a few snap judgments about her. 

Was he about to turn around and kiss her ass for it? Hell no. He wouldn’t be Sweet Pea if he went around saying “sorry” every time he did something wrong. But could he lighten up a bit around her? He supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

As he watched her ass sway, accentuated by her angry stomp, he thought certainly there could be worst things. 

///////

It was just after one am when Veronica reemerged from her dressing room, clothed in a pair of tight denim jeans and a simple light pink baby tee. Her sneakers squeaked across the wood floor as she crossed to the front entrance, blowing Cheryl a kiss goodbye behind her. 

Since she had planned to stay behind for tomorrow’s line-up, Veronica had taken the longer route to the club that afternoon, choosing to walk the distance from Cheryl’s cottage to the Wyrm instead of driving. Normally, Veronica would shy away from walking that late at night, but for some reason the warm weather felt like enough incentive for her to take a chance. Plus, she knew she could handle her own safety just fine, a simple pistol tucked inside the lining of her handbag next to the can of pepper spray she knew she could wield in less than three seconds. 

Cheryl had chosen to stay behind for another half hour, wanting to settle up the tills tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow morning. Veronica suspected that Cheryl may have reasons for staying late that may or may not involve a new leather-wearing business partner, but she figured Cheryl would speak up if she wanted to share any development in the love life territory. Veronica knew for a fact her friend would be the first and most vocal to sing about her sex life, were there any changes. 

Just as Veronica pushed back the entrance to greet the night air, she was happily surprised at the lack of chaos, pleased there wouldn’t be the risk of a repeat of last night’s events in the parking lot with the Serpents. She wasn’t completely alone, however, and she watched as Sweet Pea pushed himself off from the brick exterior of the club, stepping in his heavy boots in her direction. 

“Veronica,” he called out and the sound of his voice saying her name almost sent a shiver down her spine. 

“Sweet Pea,” she returned, continuing to walk across the lot, and she could see a smirk forming on his lips. 

“So you know my name. I figured it wouldn’t take you long to ask around about me.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You flatter yourself too much, you know?” 

“I’ve been told I’m of the ‘proud’ variety.” 

“Among other things,” she countered, and he couldn’t help but grin at her playful smirk. He looked around the parking lot and noticed the only car left in the lot was Cheryl’s Mercedes. 

“Where’s your car?” 

“I left it behind at Cheryl’s. I walked to work today.” 

“And how the Hell are you getting home?” 

She bristled at the questioning tone in his voice. “I planned on walking. Is that okay with you?” 

“Not at all. It’s fucking black as shit out here and after tonight’s little hands-on encounter, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be walking alone in the dark.” 

“Well, lucky for me – I don’t need to consult your thoughts before I make any decisions.” 

“Well, lucky for me – I have muscles that can pick you up and put you on the back of my bike. Let me give you a ride.” 

Veronica stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “Lay a hand on me. See what happens.” 

She laughed at her dare and shook his head. “If you think I’m frightened of you, princess, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

She sighed, starting to walk again. “I don’t have anything coming to me. I’m leaving.” 

“Veronica, please –“ he pleaded behind her, and she hesitated. She turned to face him and was surprised at the soft way his face appeared. 

“Let me give you a ride. It would be safer this way. You don’t want to look back and wish you had.” 

She understood what he meant, and she had to admit he was right, but that stubborn part of her perked up and she thought _to Hell with the consequences._

“I’ll be fine, Sweet Pea. I want to walk so I’m going to walk. I could use the fresh air.” She gestured to her purse. “Plus, I have a gun.” 

His eyebrow quirked in surprise. “Guns don’t mean shit if someone comes up behind you and restrains you.” 

“It sounds like you’ve thought this through.” She placed her hands on her hips. 

He was starting to get really annoyed with her attitude, and for a moment he thought about abandoning his mission to keep her safe. However, he remembered Toni’s sage words about keeping the girls in good spirits and if Veronica were attacked, they’d be one well-sought after woman down for the count. 

Plus, there was a part of him that felt he owed it to her, even if he told himself he’d never verbally apologize. 

“Veronica, can you put away the tough broad act for just one moment and let someone help you?” He sighed, watched as the hands on her hips drooped to her sides. “We don’t even have to take the bike. I’d be fine walking you to Cheryl’s.” 

Her face begin to twist up in annoyance and he held a hand up to silence her. “And this isn’t my way of saying I don’t think you’re capable of protecting yourself. It just seems silly when the offer is there that you shouldn’t just accept it.” 

“Hmm, what a concept,” she threw back, and he instantly regretted his choice of words. 

“Okay – I guess I deserved that. There’s two of us here. Two is better than one in the dark, wouldn’t you say?” 

Her eyebrows lifted slowly, and for a brief moment she felt a pang of lust hit her straight in the gut. 

“Plus,” he added, “I’m basically getting paid, in some round-about way, to make sure you stay safe.” 

She considered him for a moment, trying not to be a bit insulted at his insinuation that her safety was only important when it directly affected him. 

“Well, if you’re basically getting paid for it…”

He wanted to correct her, to explain that it wasn’t just for the money that he felt compelled to accompany her in the dark to her destination, but something held him back. Maybe it was the apprehensive look in her eyes, maybe it was the strange way he felt just being near her, like all of a sudden his body and mind decided she was someone he wanted to be close to – a stark contrast to the night before. 

Before he could say anything at all, she beckoned with her head as she moved forward. 

“Let’s go, Lancelot.” 

He quickly moved to get in step with her and they began their journey across the gravel lot and down a lit sidewalk beside a field along the main city street. 

They walked in silence for a few short minutes, Veronica reaching over to adjust her purse every so often. The town was quiet, its inhabitants long gone to bed, but Sweet Pea was aware of what could lurk behind the shadows, and he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of danger. 

Veronica stole a glance in his direction and grinned. “Loosen up, will ya? I don’t think anyone is going to come for us in this sleepy ass town.” 

He scoffed. “Shows what little you know about small towns. There are skeletons in everyone’s closet, baby, and sometimes they are let loose after midnight.” 

She thought about correcting his use of the word “baby,” but figured they had done enough bickering in the last ten minutes. Instead, she unleashed her curiosity. 

“So say we were attacked. How would you protect us?” 

He shot her a sideways glance. “Would you prefer the instruction manual or the demonstration?” 

She chuckled lightly. “Does the demonstration option mean you’re going to beat my ass?” 

“Not if you have that gun in your purse.” He eyed her curiously. “Do you really have a gun in your purse?” 

She lifted a single eyebrow. “Want to find out?” 

He held up one hand in objection. “I think I’m good.” They walked for another beat before he cleared his throat. “So, hypothetically, say we were attacked. Would you believe me if I said I can knock a man out with a single punch?” 

She eyed him up and down and his nerves began to tingle. “I’d say that would be a safe assumption for me to make. I’d take that bet, yeah. But what if you couldn’t get the right angle to take a shot?” 

He considered her question. “I could always use my head.” 

She grinned playfully. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m having a hard time believing your intelligence would be as effective in a potentially life-threatening situation.” 

He huffed. “First off, princess – full fucking offense taken. And second, I was talking about using my physical head to take a shot. It’s considerably harder than you would imagine.” 

“Doubtful,” she teased. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at her wit. “You know you’re kind of a little shit.” 

She shrugged. “Right back at you, Lurch.” 

He grinned momentarily before taking in their surroundings, catching the sight of small bugs buzzing heavily by the street lamps ahead of them, flanking a set of houses along the main road. “Where the Hell are we going anyway?” 

Veronica pointed off into the distance. “There’s a road about a mile up that we’ll turn on. That should take us straight to Cheryl’s cottage.” 

An idea struck and Sweet Pea gestured to the upcoming street entrance immediately to their left. “You hungry? There’s an all-night diner in that direction and I could kill a man for some chili fries right now.” 

There was a part of Veronica that wanted to turn him down, apprehensive about spending any more time with him than she was already spending. It was becoming apparent very quickly during their little stroll just how nervous she was feeling around him, the unwelcome swarm of butterflies in her stomach taking flight with every grin that graced his well-angled face. 

However, the tempting and indulgent thought of warm restaurant-cut fries slathered in meat sauce and liquid cheese sliding down into her stomach had the particular organ groaning in protest – she was absolutely starving. 

She took another long look at him and smiled. “Sure.” 

They both took the side street leading up to a set of train tracks fronted by a series of neon lights tucked into the windows of a little diner, designed in a sort of sidecar fashion with that 1950’s vibe, the colors teal and tin and pink covering the exterior. 

When they got to the entrance, Sweet Pea surprised her by opening the door for her, giving her passage into the diner in which a step inside almost felt like a step back in time. The posters and tin signs on the walls spoke of old-fashioned malts and Coca-Cola products, pictures of happy burgers and milkshakes dancing in the hands of joyful children and their parents. The cash register was also old-timey, settled above a long glass counter that hosted a variety of different pies and cakes for purchase. There was even a spindle covered in thick plastic, the light inside illuminating a selection of cake donuts that spun slowly for prying and hungry eyes to consider. 

Veronica was tickled by the splendor of the décor, evident by the large grin plastered on her face. Sweet Pea couldn’t help but smile too, infected by her sparkling presence. Watching her turn and check out every crevice of the interior with her wide brown eyes filled him with a near equal sensation of joy, seeing the diner he had known since he was a child for the first time through her curious eyes. 

“This place is amazing, Sweet Pea. How did I not know this place existed?” 

“It helps if you get your ass out of the city.” 

She turned to shoot him a dirty glare but the playful look on his face caught her in motion. He pointed toward the back of the diner along a row of booths. “Take the second to last one. I’ll be there in a sec.” 

She obeyed, curious at this particular choice in seating, passing a pair of truck drivers who were busy chowing down on delicious smelling hamburgers. Veronica realized this place must have opened initially as a haven for the late-night road dwellers, the wide parking lot outside perfect for a couple of big rigs. 

She slid into the booth, bouncing up and down on the red vinyl padded booth bench. She placed her hands on the plastic table top, smoothing her hands over the cold surface, almost as if willing the past several decades of time to seep into her fingertips. The nostalgia of the diner was filling her with a giddiness she hadn’t felt in years. 

Before her, she watched as Sweet Pea exchanged a few laughs with an elderly black man who stood behind the glass counter, an old-fashioned white linen hat shaped into a triangular shape topping his head. When they broke apart and Sweet Pea approached their table, she felt her nerves shoot up and nearly skyrocket. 

Fuck, he was gorgeous. From the tips of his heavy black combat boots to the messy mop of midnight on his expressive face, Veronica couldn’t deny that he was almost more tempting than the presumed food on the menu. The leather he wore over the tightness of his denim jeans, the casual black cotton tee beneath that covered what she suspected was an equally tight set of pecs and ab muscles – all of it sent warmth straight to her groin. When combined with the rich dark chocolate of his eyes and the oddly plump pink of his lips, Veronica nearly forgot about his frustrating personality, considering throwing out her previous negative notions about him in exchange for the lust that was starting to build. 

He halted when he got to the table and sent her an irritated glance. “You’ll need to move to the other side of the booth.” 

She tilted her head to the side, confused. “Why?” 

He sighed, annoyed that she was turning this into another confrontation. “Because I’m asking you to. And because I don’t like not being able to see whoever is coming through the front door.” 

Veronica wanted to dig her heels in a bit more and fish for information, but she figured that would be easier to do if she was accommodating. She slid out of the booth and her body nearly collided with his as he failed to step back and make room for her exit. 

Being this close to him, getting that first whiff of his scent – a distinct mixture of leather, cigarettes, and something resembling sandalwood – had her nerves nearly fried, overloaded by his appearance and the proximity in which their bodies currently stood. 

“Excuse me,” she muttered, trying to inch her way into the other side of the booth and bypass the immediate urge to haul herself against him and feel his presumably hard body press against hers. 

“You’re excused,” he replied and one look at his face told her he was just as affected as she was at their sudden closeness. 

They both settled into their respective sides and the moment was quickly broken. 

“So,” Veronica prompted, “why this particular booth? And why do you need to keep an eye on the front door?” 

He looked at her like she had said something stupid. “It’s nearly two am and we’re in a diner on the edge of the Southside part of town. And I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m part of a motorcycle gang.” 

She scoffed. “I know that, dipshit.” 

“Yeah, well – being in a gang means having enemies. Being a Serpent means having a lot of them.” 

“Well then why in the Hell did Cheryl think it was a good idea to have you guys post up at the club? Don’t you think that would only attract trouble?” 

He shrugged, leaning back into the booth with his hands behind his head. “Hell if I know. I wasn’t privy to that conversation when she and Toni made the arrangements. I just show up when I’m told and do what I’m told.” 

“Like a good boy.” 

He grinned. “Like a good boy.” 

She looked around the table, searching for a menu. “Wait, where are the menus? How are we supposed to know what to order?” 

He stayed casually still, watching her as she scrambled to find the list of categorized diner dishes. “I took the liberty of ordering for us already.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned forward into the table, folding her hands into themselves on the surface. “How kind of you.” 

He lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. “I do my best.” 

“So what did you feel compelled to order for me?” 

He nodded toward a figure behind Veronica. “You’re about to find out, princess.” 

Before she could respond, a haggard looking waitress with stringy blonde hair and sallow skin stopped in front of their table, offering a kind smile as she placed two plates and two frosty mugs in front of them. On the plates, there sat a large pile of fries each, both smothered in dark red chili and thick, goopy golden yellow cheese, heat coming off of the plates in waves of steam. The frosty mugs were filled with some sort of ice-cream concoction, his off-white and hers a dark shade of brown. 

“I figured you’d like the dark chocolate,” he offered, gesturing to the milkshake. She nodded and pointed to his own drink. 

“I didn’t take you for a vanilla man.” 

He smirked, sensing the suggestive hint in her words. “There’s a lot you can do with vanilla, princess. It might surprise you.” He reached onto the peak of the mountain of whipped cream adorning the drink, plucked the bright red cherry and brought it to his lips. His teeth bared and took in the fruit, biting down sharply and yanking the stem from between his lips. 

Veronica tried to not appear flustered and instead began to dig into her chili fries. One bite and she was addicted. 

“Holy shit, these are amazing.” 

“Pop’s chili cheese fries are legendary.” He watched her take another bite, her soft pink lips covered in brown chili. “Trust me now?” 

She licked the chili from her bottom lip, eyes locked onto his as she considered. “Verdict’s still out.” 

He nodded and stabbed his fork into the pile of fries. “Fair enough.” 

Veronica aimed with her own fork, pointing toward the pair of dog tags that dangled from his neck, the same accessory he had been sporting since she had first seen him the night before. 

“You a military man or do you just wear those to seem cool?” 

He sent her a dry look. “Military man. Anyone who thinks it’s cool to sport these is a fucking moron.” 

“A bit touchy, are we?” 

“Well, the military isn’t a damn trend. It’s a lot of hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.” 

“So what branch were you in? I bet it was the army. You strike me as an army guy.” 

“Marines.” 

“Why are you here? I don’t remember a military base posted up anywhere in this vicinity.” 

“Medically discharged. Got shot in the arm during my second tour in Iraq. Docs said I couldn’t use my arm the same so I was dismissed from the service.” 

“So you’re an ex-Marine then?” 

“Former Marine,” he corrected sternly, stabbing another fry with his fork. “There’s no ‘ex’ about it. Once a Marine, always a Marine.” 

“I would never have assumed you’d be so loyal.” 

He shot her a tense grin. “Semper Fi, baby.” 

“You said you got shot in the arm. You must have a pretty wicked scar from that.” 

He smirked. “Yeah. Maybe one day you’ll be lucky enough for me to show you.” 

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of the milkshake, which was equally as delicious. She was starting to think he was a better judge of her than she first thought. 

“Why do you always roll your eyes when I flirt with you?” 

The question caught her off guard and she nearly dropped her fork. “Is that what you’re doing with me? And all this time I thought you were simply insulting me.” 

He shrugged easily. “We all have our own ways to pass the time,” he replied before stuffing another mouthful of hot potato in his mouth. 

She took the opportunity of him chewing to ask another set of questions. 

“So what’s with the name ‘Sweet Pea’? They can’t be your real name.” 

He swallowed and sent her a slow smirk. “And if it is?” 

“Well, it’s a stupid name!” she exclaimed, the laughter escaping her lips. 

She nearly missed the wince that appeared on his face after the blow of the insult landed. 

“It’s actually a nickname I got back in the service. It’s based off the character from ‘Popeye,’ the baby left behind on Popeye’s doorstep. When I joined the Marines, I was basically like that kid – no ma, no pop. Another orphan to the government.” 

“Shit,” Veronica muttered, heat flushing her cheeks as the embarrassment sunk in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.” 

“Why? It’s not the first time you’ve said something insulting to my face.” 

She scoffed. “I think we’ve both said some pretty regretful words these past couple of days.” 

He pursed his lips and leaned back again into the booth, his hands coming down to rub his full stomach after finishing his plate of chili cheese fries. “I guess. But apology accepted.” 

“Thank you,” she replied. She took a sip of her shake. “So what is your real name, then? Or will you have to kill me if you tell me?” 

She shot him a flirty smile beneath her lashes. 

“Tempting. But it’s just a name so who the fuck cares, right? It’s John. John Culpepper.” 

“That wasn’t so difficult.” 

“No, but don’t go calling me that from now on. I have people call me Sweet Pea for a reason.” 

She twirled the stem of her straw through her shake. “Is there something else they call you then? Sweet Pea just sounds like a mouthful sometimes. Doesn’t roll off the tongue that easy.” 

“You think _my name_ is a mouthful?” He flashed her a toothy grin, one she didn’t know he was possible of making. It took her breath away like a punch to gut. 

She tried to refrain from rolling her eyes, remembering his teasing comment earlier, but continued to smirk while she regained the air in her lungs. “A nickname, please?” 

“Sometimes, the Serpents call me SP. Toni calls me Pea. Any of that work for you, princess?” 

“Yes – but just for future reference, princess isn’t a nickname of mine, so you can stop calling me that.” 

“Highly unlikely,” he replied sarcastically, reaching over to her plate and snatching up one of the naked fries free of sauce. He bit down and grinned at her again. 

They talked for another solid thirty minutes, allowing Veronica enough time to finish her shake, and just as they were departing the diner her phone chimed with a text. 

**CHERYL: Where the fuck are you? Hello???**

Veronica sighed, realizing she had neglected to inform Cheryl that she was stopping for food with Sweet Pea. She texted to let her friend know about her little detour and the two of them stepped out of the diner into the cool three am air. 

During the rest of the commute to Cheryl’s place, she and Sweet Pea talked a bit more about his history with the Serpents. She learned that his father had once been involved in the gang before he died, which essentially meant Sweet Pea was a legacy member. She learned he found enjoyment in canvassing the Southside with Fangs the best, their easygoing conversations filling the time with laughter where there could be stress and tension otherwise. Veronica found this believable, her own earlier encounter with Fangs proving he seemed to be the lovable scamp of the group. 

“He’s got a thing for you, you know,” Sweet Pea supplied, watching her with a sideways glance for her reaction. 

“Who? Fangs?” Her face scrunched up in disbelief. 

“Yeah. He said, and I quote, ‘the things I would do to this chick.’” 

She reached over and smacked his arm playfully, eliciting a laugh from his lips. They both seemed to be enjoying the lighter atmosphere between them, their banter leaning more toward sportive than hostile. 

“I have a hard time feeling his imagination would come up with more than a couple of basic moves.” 

Sweet Pea chuckled. “I’m sure you’d be right. Missionary, doggie style, come on the tits – sounds like Fangs’s motus operandi.” 

Veronica shook her head. “Gross. Also, what’s with this fascination of coming on tits? Can’t they be nice to look at without mucking them up with some dude’s semen?” 

Sweet Pea choked on another laugh. “Did you just say semen?” 

Veronica couldn’t help but laugh along. “I mean, what other words would you like me to use? That’s what it is!” 

“It just sounds so – clinical. Not sexy at all.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to sound sexy talking about men jerking off onto a pair of tits.” 

“I don’t know – that right there sounded pretty sexy to me.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Of course it does. You’re a dude. You all have the same tastes.” 

He took a step in front of her and turned, facing her as he walked backwards. “Woah, now – hold the fuck up. Not every guy has the same tastes. And not every guy wants to come on tits.” 

Feeling friskier by the minute, she decided to press for more. “Oh yeah? So where do those other guys want to come?” 

He lifted an eyebrow to her, their pace slowing as they neared the walkway leading up to Cheryl’s front door. “You really want to know?” 

His voice was suddenly husky and thick, and the friskiness she felt shot up tenfold as they stopped in front of the walkway. 

“Maybe…”

Sweet Pea looked like he wanted to answer, but instead he leaned in close near her ear and whispered, “Save me a dance next week, Veronica.” 

With that, he backed away, stepping into the roadway as he gestured for her to go inside. “Goodnight.” 

She had to fight to find her footing again, momentarily stunned by the warmth of his breath on her ear and his request for a dance – and the implication that followed in her mind. 

“Goodnight,” she finally muttered, crossing up the walkway, taking out her keys from her purse to unlock the front door. She shot a look over her shoulder before entering, realizing Sweet Pea was waiting to make sure she got inside safely, and as she shut the door the harsh reality of the moment came crashing down. 

_She was fucking screwed._

///////

The following Monday, Veronica stood in her kitchen, stirring marinara sauce in a large copper saucepan, peppering it with seasonings like basil and rosemary as her ladle swirled. She was barefoot and exhausted, home an hour after a long and drawn out day in the office. Beside the stove sat a crystal wine glass, filled halfway with a rich dusky Malbec. She reached down with her free hand and took a generous sip. 

Behind her, Nick St. Clair paced back and forth in front of the island counter, his cell phone practically glued to his hand as he shouted into the receiver. A jumble of numbers, a string of expletives, the droning on and on that was slowly driving Veronica insane. Ever since he had shown up after work, he had been on the phone, making last minute merger negotiations with a company that his father was trying to buy. 

_Another day, another eighty million dollars,_ Veronica thought blandly. 

She supposed it was a welcome distraction to the disappointment she had felt for the past couple of days. After her nighttime adventure with Sweet Pea, he was suddenly all she could think about, and to her ire, he had been noticeably absent during that Sunday evening’s performance. Instead, she got by talking with Fangs and Toni, doing her best to press for information about Toni and Cheryl’s potentially more-than-professional relationship. 

The dance had gone off without a hitch, no less the standard she met every act, but the whole evening lacked luster without the brooding presence of a certain Serpent. She didn’t think they were in any territory other than hesitant friends, but their interaction had been enough to elicit a new kind of excitement she hadn’t felt in so long, a kind of excitement she couldn’t achieve through dance. 

She heard Nick click off the receiver behind her and set the phone on the counter top. She knew before she felt that he would come up and press his chest to her back, his usual routine after a heated phone call. Next, he would slip his hand into her blouse and fondle her breast while trying to search for some generic compliment for her cooking. 

“Sauce smells good, baby.” 

She took another deep sip of wine. “Thank you. I’m trying something new with the herbs.” 

“Well, whatever the Hell it is, it smells heavenly.” He squeezed her breast playfully, his other hand slithering around her waist to dig below the top of her black slacks. “I bet it’ll taste just as good too.” 

She tried to brush him off, but she knew it was pointless. Eventually, they were going to have sex. The least she could do was try to spice things up by doing it in the kitchen instead of the same old bed they fucked in each time he felt horny. 

She set down her wine glass when she felt one of his fingers slip into her pussy, and for a moment she wondered what he was feeling right now. Was she wet? Did she even seem turned on? Did her body do a good job disguising her disinterest in having him inside her? 

He seemed to be unbothered, moaning the same dirty sweet nothings he always muttered when he was trying to get her in the mood. 

“Fuck yeah, my sweet baby. Want me to take you right here in the kitchen?” 

Veronica sighed to herself before turning, putting on the act she knew only too well. 

“Yes, please,” and she bit her bottom lip, right on cue. His hand slipped out from her pants and he helped to hoist her up on the counter top, his upper body strength not quite stout enough to lift her on his own. 

She unzipped her slacks and slipped them off while he pulled his semi-hard dick from his pants. The fact that he, too, couldn’t even get fully aroused for this act between them had her more amused than she knew she should be. 

He pumped himself as she fingered herself on the counter, doing whatever she could to just get it over with. When he was sufficiently hard enough for a fuck, he stepped forward and slid her legs further apart, sliding into her with a loud groan, his face tucked into the crook of her neck. 

As he thrust in and out of her, grunting and groaning, she closed her eyes. Immediately, the image of Sweet Pea flashed into her vision, the dark color of his eyes and that signature scowl of his sending her spiraling. She felt heat begin to pool between her legs, truly wet as she thought about what it would be like to have Sweet Pea’s cock inside her. 

She tried to picture what it looked like. Was it long? Was it thick? Was he uncut or did he have that perfect little head with that tiny pinprick hole that she imagined lapping at with her tongue? Was he veiny? Were his balls proportional and what would they feel like slapping her ass as he fucked her from behind? 

She thought about the muscles of his arms, the long and thin appearance of his fingers and wondered what it would be like to have them inside her pussy, pumping in and out of her, collecting her wetness along their lengths. How would she taste on his fingers after he put them in her mouth and demanded that she suck? 

She thought about the tight ass she remembered from every time he sauntered away from her. What would it be like to grip those two cheeks? How would it feel to dig her sharp nails into the flesh as he fucked her harder and harder and harder and harder and harder…

Without warning, Veronica was ambushed by a sudden rush of heat and tingling and the orgasm ripped through her muscles like a tidal wave. 

_Fuck,_ she thought. 

Nick finished directly after, shoving himself into her once more to spill himself inside her throbbing walls. After he caught his breath, he chuckled, and she knew he was taking credit for the orgasm she didn’t expect. 

If only he knew she came thinking of another man…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them. 
> 
> Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove that she’s no angel after all.
> 
> Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to thank all of you that clicked to read this story. Over 1,000 hits for a crackship you can't even search for in AO3? That's... AMAZING. I am floored, and it's all because of you and word of mouth. SweetVee is my brainchild. I'm sensitive about them and their success. They are my tiny part of contribution to this monstrous fandom, and I can't believe how many people have latched on to the idea of Sweet Pea and Veronica getting together. You guys are magical, truly.
> 
> So, let's get to it. You guys seemed like you were thirsty for some action, so I decided to give you a little ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter. WARNING: there are vulgar terms and language throughout this chapter and all chapters moving forward. If specific curse words, slurs, or graphic sexual terms are NOT your cup of tea, please don't be offended because they are spread all over the remainder of this story. Author's choice, but I recognize it's not everyone's preference. I just wanted to give you all a heads up :) 
> 
> Side note: I know a lot of people have approached me on tumblr to talk about these fics and SweetVee. If you ever want to talk, I say my virtual door is always open -- and it is. I LOVE talking to other people and it's never a bother. I'm at elegantmoonchild on tumblr. Come say hi!
> 
> Lastly, a special thank you to youbuildmeupbeliever for your constant encouragement. She may have had an early screening of this material and gave me the "omg" approval, so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination. 

Nearly two weeks later, Veronica made her way down the 304, cruising under the Saturday afternoon sun. In the back of her convertible sat a bag full of new costume pieces she had picked up at a vintage shop in Chelsea, along with an overnight set of clothing for her stay in Riverdale. 

Unfortunately, she had a family engagement the night before and was unable to perform at the Wyrm, and it had seriously cost her, filling her with anxiety as she spent the entire evening wishing she were anywhere but Manhattan, linked on the arm of Nick as they waltzed through a room full of strangers. By midnight, her heels were killing her feet and the pins in her hair were giving her a migraine, something she never seemed to experience when she was dancing at the club. She was curious about the pain, figured it was some subconscious association with being somewhere she despised when she’d rather be gliding across a wooden stage to some sensuous beat – the eyes of a dark and mysterious Serpent glued to her every move. 

Veronica had been sorely disappointed the week before when Sweet Pea neglected to cash in on his requested dance, and she let pride get the best of her, refusing to bring the topic up to his face. 

_If he wants a dance, he’ll have to be a big boy and tell me._

Her attitude toward him became a bit more frosty, the ice dripping off of her words with the little bit of conversation they shared. She could tell he looked preoccupied, and the optimistic side of her rationalized that maybe his forgetfulness was caused by his mind being elsewhere, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit like shit. 

Perhaps it was because she had spent the greater part of the week prior imagining what it would be like to press her bare lips to his, to writhe beneath him in the dark of her apartment with his hands in her hair and his cock inside her. 

She continued to feel miffed for the entirety of this past week, wasting time daydreaming when she should have been going over business projections. When she was called into an emergency meeting, she couldn’t even bother to care, too busy being irrationally pissed about Sweet Pea’s distant attitude, imagining a situation where she could confront him with a slap to the face, a swarm of angry words, before he pushed her against a wall and took her over and over. 

_Where the fuck did this come from all of a sudden?_ Veronica felt so confused, trapped in her mind as she tried to trace back the pattern of events that led her to abruptly change her impression of Sweet Pea, going from disgruntled misogynist to smoking hot bad boy with a smile that could melt her clothes off. She was still turned off by his choice of words the first night they met, still a bit pissed he hadn’t come out and directly apologized for them, but she could tell the night they ate at the diner that he was doing his best to offer contrition. 

She slowed down her speed and activated her blinker, turning to the right off of the highway and into the town of Riverdale. It took another ten miles before she was venturing into the Southside, and she looked around her through circular-shaped sunglasses at the little bit of dilapidated suburbia around her. 

There were neighborhoods to her right, running parallel to a patch of woods across the main street. The houses, for the most part, looked worn down and rusted, the foundation of several homes cracked and in desperate need for repair. The grass in the yards was yellow and crusted, hanging onto life through its blades like a thin and brittle thread. In some of the yards, there was a host of junk, old convection ovens and washing machines, broken down with the doors dangling from a few screws, and old rusted children’s toys buried beneath tall weeds and unmowed grass. Several of the driveways had motorcycles on the gravel, the choice vehicle in the town, Veronica could only assume. She wondered just how deep the Serpents ran and how big their ranks were. 

As she approached the turn off for Pop’s, the diner she had eaten at with Sweet Pea two weeks ago, she considered picking up a cheeseburger, a sort of protein pick-me-up before her dance tonight. Her mind tried to convince her that burger would only equal grease, and grease would only equal bloating, but her stomach overruled logic. She made the snap decision to turn off onto the street and rode up the hill to the diner. 

She parked in the front row, the lot surprisingly low for a Saturday afternoon verging on dinnertime. She slammed the driver side door and crossed to the diner door, crunching along the gravel in her black Prada flats. When she pulled the door back and entered, the wave of nostalgia hit her once more and she was instantly filled with giddiness. 

The elderly black man Sweet Pea had been talking to was still behind the counter, wiping the surface down with a rag that looked like it had seen better days. When the bell above the door rung, signaling a new customer, the man looked up and offered her a friendly smile. 

“Good Evening, Miss – Veronica, wasn’t it?” 

She looked at him a bit perplexed, curious how he knew who she was. “That’s correct, though forgive me if I forgot when we had been introduced.” She tried to sound as nice as possible about it, his smile still utterly heartwarming and kind. 

“Oh, my apologies. Sweet Pea told me your name a few days ago when he had come in for supper. I asked him who the pretty girl was that he had brought in the other night and he told me who you were, said you were a newcomer who was now in love with my food.” 

“That I am,” she smiled back in return. She held a hand out to greet him. He took it and nodded. 

“I’m Pop, the owner of this establishment.” 

“Well, as Sweet Pea mentioned, I am absolutely, utterly in love with your food. I was actually hoping to order something for supper. Do you have a menu I could look at?” 

He reached under the counter and retrieved a plastic, bendable menu for her to peruse. “Here you go. Let me know when you’re ready to order.” 

She nodded an affirmative and scanned the items on the list. As much as she was craving a juicy cheeseburger with pickles and five layers of crunchy onions, she refrained and landed on the Cobb salad with grilled chicken instead of fried. 

“So is Sweet Pea kind enough to introduce all of the women he takes here at two in the morning?” She chuckled to herself, but even she could see through her bullshit. _Why do you care so much? You’re so damn obvious, Veronica._

Pop looked confused. “I’m not sure what you mean. Sweet Pea’s never brought a girl here. I mean, maybe in his younger years, but even then it wasn’t often.” He leaned over the counter and pointed to the very same booth they had sat at, all the way down the end second to the wall. 

“He used to come here every Sunday with his father and sit in that exact booth. I think it was a sort of tradition for them. It was a shame when that ended, and Sweet Pea stopped coming here as often. When he left for the military, I worried I’d never see him again. From what I heard, he had made his way back to town a few months ago, but that night with you was the first time I had seen him since he was shipped out.” 

Veronica eyed the booth, trying to picture a young Sweet Pea sitting behind the table with a burger perched in his hand. Was he happier back then? She tried to imagine him sitting there with a smile on his face, his unruly hair ruffled by a man older than him as they laughed and ate side by side. 

The ice she had been feeling for Sweet Pea was beginning to melt as she pictured him in that booth. _Simpler times?_ Though it was still somewhat hard for her to picture him without that permanent sneer. 

“I didn’t realize he and his father were that close. To be honest, I don’t really know much about SP…”

Pop smiled, writing the tab for her salad on a ticket and placing it in the window for the cook to see. “He’s a tough nut to crack, our boy, but he means well. Don’t forget that.” 

He walked to the other end of the counter with his rag and began to clean that section. 

Veronica glanced back toward the booth and stepped forward, instantly drawn to it as if she were in a daze. She settled into the seat, again touching the surface of the table as if she could absorb the many memories shared there, this new knowledge of a younger Sweet Pea and his father making her heart ache with a sudden loneliness. 

She wondered what had happened to his father to have ended that tradition. Sweet Pea had alluded that when he joined the military, he had no parents. Were they both dead? Did he disown them? Did they disown him? She had a hard time believing the latter. Though there was still so much about him she didn’t know, she had the impression he was loyal to an absolute fault. 

There was a great part of her that wondered why he joined the military in the first place. His father had been a member of the Serpents and Sweet Pea didn’t seem to mind the dealings that the club did. 

She questioned why he didn’t just stick behind and claim his seat with the gang, one he was literally born into through sheer legacy alone.

Behind her, the bell by the counter rang and she turned at the sound of her name being called out by Pop. He held up a plastic bag, tied at the top, for her to retrieve. She slid out of the booth and crossed to him, a grateful smile on her face. 

“Thank you Pop, and it was wonderful to meet you.” 

“Likewise, Miss Veronica.” He leaned in and whispered playfully, though she wasn’t sure why since she was one of two customers inside the diner. She supposed it was his jolly nature. 

“I put two slices of cherry pie in there too. You never know who you might meet along the way that might want a piece of pie.” 

She looked at him curiously, but thanked him nonetheless for the food and handed him her cash. After he had finished ringing her up, she exited the diner and got back into her car, setting the bag of food on the floor of her passenger side. 

She peeled out of the parking lot and made her way to the Wyrm, opting to drive the whole way this time instead of stopping at Cheryl’s first. As she took a right out of the diner lot, she took off along a side road, humming along to the sound of Selena Gomez’s new hit “Fetish” coming from the radio. She made it about half a mile before she spotted a tall figure hunched over a motorcycle on the side of the road. From the way he kicked the dirt around him, she assumed the vehicle wasn’t working to his standards. 

As she neared closer, she could make out the distinct serpent detail on the back of his denim jacket, the familiar angle of his tan jaw and strands of messy black hair falling before his eyes as he lashed out his anger of the bike on the ground beside him. 

For a moment, she considered driving past Sweet Pea, her ego still bruised from last week’s negligence. It would be so easy to keep on, ignore that he even existed, and move on with her life. She could dance as scheduled and give him minimal amounts of her time, enough to convey any simple messages she needed in order to continue with her job, and act like he wasn’t there the rest of the time. 

Despite her doubts, though, Veronica realized that was the last thing she wanted to do, finding herself already pulling off to the side of the road. When she slowed to a stop in front of him, she lowered her shades to look him in the eye, frustration etched in every line and crevice of his face. She had to admit – angry looked damn fucking good on him. 

“Feeling a little helpless, princess?” 

He shot her a lethal look, wiping the sweat from his furrowed brow. “Fucking thing broke down on me halfway down 3rd.” 

“Need a lift?” she offered, and for a moment he stood staring at her as if considering her offer. The longer he stared, the more unnerved and annoyed it left her, thinking if he was even going to question his options, she didn’t have to waste her time on him. 

She was about to put her foot on the gas when he straightened over the bike and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

He opened her passenger door and paused, eyeing the package on the floorboard. 

“Oh, that’s right. I stopped at Pop’s on the way in to work. Can you just set that in your lap?” 

He climbed into the car and carefully set the bag over his bent knees. His scowl was quickly turning into a smirk. “Pop’s, huh?” 

“You’ve got me hooked. Plus, I’ve come to find Pop is a wealth of interesting knowledge.” 

He eyed her suspiciously but didn’t press on for more, choosing instead to look forward as she turned back onto the road. 

“So are we going to the Wyrm, then?” 

Sweet Pea shook his head. “No. I need you to bring me by Gibb Automotive. I’ll get one of the guys to help me pick up my bike.” 

As they drove, she eyed the bag in his lap, remembering Pop’s intuitive advice. “If you’re hungry, Pop put an extra slice of cherry pie in the bag – if you want it.” 

His smirk deepened and the wiggle of his eyebrows made her suddenly nervous. 

“Are you asking if I want your pie, Veronica?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a pervert.” His response was a soft laugh, digging into the bag for the Styrofoam container with the pie, as they whirled down the street. 

He directed her in the opposite direction deeper into the Southside, nearing a large garage near a crowded trailer park. She pulled into the lot in front of the shop, careful to watch for the men that stalked about the entrance, some rolling tires, others staring down at what she assumed were invoices. 

She parked the car and watched as he exited. He looked down at her in the convertible. “You coming or not?” 

She pursed her lips. “I thought I was just dropping you off.” 

“Yeah, but it might do you some good to meet a couple more of the guys. They’re going to be protecting your ass at the Wyrm so it seems like a good waste of your time.” 

She looked at the clock on her dash and figured she had a few hours before she really needed to be at the club, preparing for her act. 

“What the Hell?” she responded casually and turned off the ignition. When she stepped out and joined him on the other side of the vehicle, he led her toward the opening of the garage. One man in light gray coveralls approached them, his face covered in varying degrees of oil and soot. 

“’Sup, SP? What can we do for you?” 

Sweet Pea dug his hands into the back pocket of his denim jeans, searching for his pack of cigarettes. “Damn bike broke down on me again. I need you and Mustang to help me tow it back.” 

The man nodded, eyeing the lot for an available tow truck. “I think that can be arranged. Tall Boy just took one out to the Northside, but I think we can make it out to your bike in the next hour.” 

The man suddenly noticed Veronica and his posture perked up instantly, his green eyes taking in the exposed tan color of her legs under her denim short shorts. He wiped his hands on his coveralls and extended one for her to shake. 

“My apologies, miss. I’m Arthur, one of the mechanics here at this joint.” 

“And fellow Serpent,” Sweet Pea clarified. 

Veronica nodded at Sweet Pea and took the offered hand, shook his calloused hand gently. “Veronica Lodge. Nice to meet you.” 

“Oh fuck – so this is _the_ Veronica Lodge? You’ve got quite the reputation around the Southside.” 

Her eyebrow quirked and she smirked. “Oh really? Hopefully a good one.” 

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he looked her up and down suggestively. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, babe.” 

Sweet Pea cleared his throat and immediately Arthur ceased his leering, choosing instead to turn around and whistle loudly to Mustang, another Serpent that she recognized as the one who harassed her the first night the Serpents came to the Wyrm. 

When Mustang noticed Veronica, she could see his shoulders tense up, his eyes flying directly to Sweet Pea’s. In an unspoken instruction, Mustang coughed and ran his greasy hands through the back of his messy blonde hair. 

“Umm, I want to apologize for the other night, ma’am. I was drunk, and though it’s not an excuse, I’m sorry for I said what I said. You deserve better.” He looked back at Sweet Pea, almost as if for approval, and Veronica clucked her tongue, imagining Sweet Pea had given Mustang a stern talking to sometime since the night at the diner. 

“Thank you. Mustang, is it? I appreciate that.” 

He nodded and tried to switch topics. “So that piece of junk Harley of yours is broken down again, huh, SP?” 

Sweet Pea scowled. “Careful, Mustang. That ‘piece of junk’ is like my baby.” 

“What a well-behaved baby,” he chuckled. “Let’s go talk figures, SP.” He gestured toward the small office to the side of the garage. 

Sweet Pea turned to address Veronica, the new angle of his body suddenly making him appear closer to her than he was before. She could catch that familiar scent of him, feel the tingling of the nerves in her fingertips as she stared up at him as he towered over her. His brown eyes were warm and she felt like diving deep into them. 

“Alright, I’m going to stick around here and see if I can’t get my bike fixed. Thanks for the ride.” He reached up and brushed a stray piece of her black hair out of her face, brought in by the breeze that surrounded them. “See you tonight?” 

Without conscious thought, she bit down on her bottom lip and soothed it with her tongue. She could see the brown of his eyes darken to black, his fingers near her cheek still. 

“Sure.” She offered him another deep stare before she turned heel and headed back to her convertible. “Stay out of trouble,” she tossed back at him, a teasing smile on her lips, feeling emboldened now that they were feet away instead of inches. Being that close to him was beginning to fry her brain cells. 

“No promises, baby.” 

She felt the blush appear before he could see it. He smirked in reply and pivoted around to follow Mustang into the office. Arthur walked up next to him, patting him hard on the back as he muttered something Veronica could barely make out. 

“That your old lady, Pea?” 

She watched as Sweet Pea shook his head, laughter light on his lips, and for the first time she they had met, she considered what it might be like to be attached to him by name. 

///////

Later that night, as Veronica twirled along to Bill Withers’ “Use Me,” her hands gripping tight on the single pole in the corner of the stage and her hair swinging back and forth with her motion, she kept making eyes at Sweet Pea from across the room. He watched as she gyrated along the length of the pole, their eyes practically glued to each other, a flirty smirk on both of their lips. 

Veronica did her best to show attention to other crowd-goers, but she couldn’t help the growing storm of lust that was building between her and Sweet Pea, driven by the wild way she swung her hips and pelvis, bringing her hands up to her hair to fist and caress. The rhythm of the song was driving her mad, imagining straddle him in some dark corner and riding him until they both collapsed. She could practically feel his hands all over her body, biting her lip over and over, her mind lost in her own fantasy as she continued to dance. 

Sweet Pea was going insane internally, his dick throbbing in his jeans as he watched her swerve and sway, her eyes so keen on his he imagined she was dancing only for him. The rest of the room faded away as he pictured her perfect lithe body rocking against his hips, his pelvis digging into her ass as he held her from behind and swayed. He thought about biting that tempting piece of flesh beneath the crook of her neck just above her collarbone, imagined licking it soothingly after his many nibbles. 

He pictured those beautiful breasts of hers, currently on display and covered only in two playful tassels that circled around with every shimmy she offered. He could almost feel them molded perfectly in his rough hands, gripping and squeezing as she moaned into his ear. He thought about what it would taste like to put his tongue on her nipples, what the color of her tits looked like under her usual pasties, how they would feel beneath his grip. 

His eyes swooped down below her navel where the straps of her bejeweled high-waisted panties rest, clinging to her natural waist as the rest of the fabric dove low, completing a perfect diagonal on each side. He thought about bending down and clutching the elastic band in his teeth, dragging it down achingly slow as she begged him to put his tongue, his finger, his cock inside her. 

He could almost taste her, imagining she would drip sweet on his hot tongue, her pussy juices thick and heavenly. 

His dick was now aching so hard he worried he might have to sneak off and take care of business in the men’s restroom. 

When her dance ended, he praised the gods, thankful that her seductive moves could no longer torture him mercilessly. 

However, his break from the torture was short lived as instead of heading back into her dressing room for her usual costume change, she exited the stage and stepped directly into the audience. She tried to mingle with some of the patrons, but her eyes kept sweeping above the heads of the seated men around her, finding Sweet Pea’s watchful brown across the room. 

As if pulled together by some unseen tether, he began to wander slowly in her direction, pretending to survey the crowd for any rowdy and untoward business when in reality he was doing whatever he could to be closer to her. He stopped, however, when one of the customers stopped her in her path and she switched her attention to him. 

Sweet Pea felt a sick slug of jealousy hit him in the gut and he had to remind himself that this was her job. She was paid to make men believe she wanted them, but the thought still made his skin crawl, even if he had enough sense to know she didn’t want a single one of them. He could see it in her eyes for the entirety of her dance – she wanted him and only him tonight. 

He watched in his peripheral as she perched herself on the lap of the inquiring customer, his arm coming around to grip her waist playfully, bouncing her up and down on his knee. Veronica laughed along, and Sweet Pea knew it was mockingly, but it didn’t stop the heat in his blood turning up into a boil. The thought of any other man putting his hand on Veronica had him fucking seething. 

He inched his way closer to the scene, his eagle eye taking note of every detail of the offending man touching Veronica. He looked to be about mid-30’s, brown hair, slim but still well-built. Sweet Pea sized him up, trying to determine if he could overpower him should the need arise. 

Just as Sweet Pea was trying to come up with an excuse to beat that particular patron, he shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts that fed the fury in his brain. He had to keep his cool. He was here to do a job, same as her. Neither of them could afford to act out of sorts and cause a ruckus. 

Toni would have his nuts and his head if he did anything rash. 

Sweet Pea’s composure was contained for another five minutes before his anger spiked again, watching as the man landed a playful smack on Veronica’s ass. The biker stomped closer to the customer, but stopped just short of him when Veronica dismounted from the man’s lap and began to teasingly reprimand him, reminding him that the club’s policy was “hands off.” 

She turned to see Sweet Pea standing a few feet away, murder in his eyes. “Sweet Pea?” she asked, though her tone was clear – _back off._

He opened his mouth to address her, then turned to face the gentleman who had offended Veronica. 

“You. Get up. Now.” 

“Pea, I’ve got this.” Veronica turned to address the customer. “Sir, don’t worry about it.” 

“The Hell with that. I said get up, now get the fuck up.” Sweet Pea reached down to grab the man’s arm, nearly getting that excuse to attack him when the man pulled away from his reach, an expletive slipping from his tongue. 

“Sweet Pea – I said I’ve got this. You need to back off, now.” The lethality in her eyes matched his own as she shot him another glare. He could see she was trying to maintain the drama-free atmosphere around them but he couldn’t give a fuck. He was about to speak when Veronica beat him to the punch. 

“Sir, I am so sorry for his behavior. Have a drink on me, please.” She signaled to a nearby waitress and closed the gap between her and Sweet Pea, gripping his bicep with her well-manicured hand and pulling him away from the area into a shadowy corner near the far end of the stage. 

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing? Are you seriously trying to cost me my job?” 

Sweet Pea was fuming. “You think I’m going to let some prick put his hands on you like that?” 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “That’s a giant part of my job, giving the audience members attention and teasing them into throwing more cash at the bar. And if things get out of hand, I know how to handle my own shit, SP. I thought we already established this?” 

He shrugged, looking down at the ground. The song in the background changed to “Bad For You” by Meek Mill and Nicki Minaj as another girl prepared to take the stage. 

“I don’t doubt that.” He ran one hand through his hair while the other came up to grip his hip. “I just can’t handle seeing some guy touch you like that.” 

She watched him for a moment, pursing her lips as he let out a slow breath. “Why does it bother you so much?” 

His eyes came up from the floor, boring straight into her. “Isn’t it obvious?” 

She had an inkling, but wanted him to say it out loud. Her eyebrow quirked curiously. “If it was, I wouldn’t be asking you to clarify.” 

He took a step forward and she couldn’t help but take a step back, feeling frightened by the hardened look in his dark eyes. “Do you need me to spell it the fuck out?” 

“I think that’s a good place to start.” 

He considered her for a moment, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “What do you think was running through that guy’s mind?” 

She was taken aback by his sudden change in topic. “I don’t know. Why don’t you enlighten me?” 

He took another step toward her, backing her up to the brick wall of the main room. He lifted one hand to brace his weight as he leaned over her, framing her face with his hand. His eyes looked down at her nearly exposed breasts and his tongue wet his lips once more. 

“I imagine he was thinking exactly what I’ve been thinking all night, and that shit is dangerous, baby.” 

She took in a sharp inhale, feeling her back stiffen beneath his gaze, the implication of his words turning the butterflies in her stomach into angry swarms, fluttering so wildly she thought she might vomit. 

“Again, it sounds like you don’t think I can handle myself.” 

“When it comes to what I’m thinking, you can’t.” 

She jutted her chin out and up, defiant to hide the lie. “I’m not afraid of you, Sweet Pea.” 

He leaned in closer and she could feel the heat of his breath inches away from her own. 

“You fucking should be.” 

She couldn’t explain what happened next, but in an act of instinct, her palm came up to smack across his cheek, and she could feel the sting left behind. 

She instantly regretted her actions, seeing the rage in his face build, his eyes wide in shock. He took a moment, breathing in slow, and she wondered how he was going to react. 

She swiftly remembered this man was in a gang, a biker with a grumpy attitude and proneness for violence. She knew nothing about him other than the bits and pieces she picked up along the way and the image she had created of him in her fantasies – beyond that, he was a total mystery. She had no idea if he was the type to strike, if he had a history of being nondiscriminatory in gender when he lashed back. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up in fear. 

When his eyes met hers, he could see she was terrified, cowering beneath him, and he felt instant shame coil in his stomach. He wanted to throttle someone, the pain of her slap reverberating through his body, but he would never hit her. Couldn’t she see that? 

“I’m – I’m sorry,” she muttered and he closed his eyes and swallowed, worried that he was already beginning to fuck this up. He had to get a hold of his temper. 

“Veronica,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I just… I need to take a step back.” He pushed away from the wall and her body. 

The fear had subsided at the sight of his face softening, apology written in his eyes, and now she felt the confusing feeling of dread that she had done something to push him away, frightened now by the loss of his body heat on hers. 

Suddenly, she knew exactly what they both needed, the tension in that small gap between them too thick to continue. 

“Sweet Pea,” she reached for his hand and he allowed her to take it, looking down at it and back up at her, confused. 

“Follow me.” 

She led him through a curtained partition next to their corner by the stage, guiding him toward the series of red velvet drapes over doorways belonging to the VIP section of the club. She chose one at random, thrilled when it was vacant. Once they were inside the room, she shut the curtain tight behind them, and suddenly everything around them – the faint sound of the stage music, the dim lighting of the room, the single padded bench along the wall – shouted that they were alone. 

The faint sound of The Weeknd’s super slow and super sexual “What You Need” began to play in the speakers above and Veronica felt the rhythm of the song push her toward him, inching across the few steps between them. 

He watched her as her eyes locked onto his, felt her hands slide up the length of his torso to wrap around his neck and pull his face down to hers. When their lips met, pressing together firmly, punctuated by the backtrack sound resembling a bed squeaking, Veronica felt a sudden rush of heat sweep through her body. 

His arm slithered around to curve across her lower back, pulling her half-naked body into his, and he reveled in the sensation of his firm chest against the tassels on her breasts. He drug his tongue slowly across her top lip and she opened for him, giving him license to probe the depths of her hot mouth. When the kiss deepened, and the sound of her first whimper echoed around the room, all Hell broke loose. 

Quickly, his hands both traveled down under her ass and he lifted her up, persuading her to wrap her legs around his waist with a firm squeeze of his palms. Surprisingly, he kept his balance as he carried her over to the bench, laying her down on the surface gently, his mouth still attached to hers. Once she was settled on the seat, her legs still wrapped tightly around his hips, his lips left hers and began traveling down the smooth column of her swan-like neck. 

Her hand came up to grip his hair, tugging lightly at the black strands that were nearly camouflaged in the dim lighting of the room. She moaned softly as she felt his lips hover over her pulse point, blowing a warm exhale over the skin, before his tongue dipped out to lap at the surface. When his mouth touched down and began to suck, her hips bucked into his and she found madness. 

He was rock hard, the firm denim over his crotch making him feel rougher against the burning hot skin of her center. She knew that she was wetter than she had been in so long, practically feeling it pulse out of her with the quivering of her aching pussy. When his lips came back to hers, they began to grind. 

“Fucking Hells,” he whispered in her ear, his lips detaching from hers to lick at the fleshy lobe on the side of her face. “I need you so bad right now.” 

She grinned, relishing in the soft sucking of his mouth on her ear, her special spot that always drove her wild – mildly impressed he had found it so soon. “I can tell.” 

In playful retaliation, he ground his bulge against her harder and suddenly all bets were off. 

She cried out his name, her hand clutching his hair tighter than ever as she yanked, bringing his face above hers. He looked down at her and could sense the urgency between them, and as much as he wanted to take his time with her, the throbbing and twitching of his cock paired with the intense look of lust in her eyes, the edge of desperation there as they pleaded with him to continue, he knew he needed to fuck her now before they both burned alive. 

His hand, previously framing her face, slid down to grip one of her breasts, pulling at the tassel playfully, teasingly, eliciting another round of moans from her lips. His mouth traveled down to lap at the skin above the covered peak, tasting the sweet vanilla of her skin. 

“Pea….” She whispered, and his mind was suddenly filled with all sorts of filthy thoughts. 

“I’ve wanted to touch these tits all night,” he replied, squeezing and relaxing the flesh over and over. 

She grinned, her fingers gliding down from his hair toward his back. “It was all for you – the costume, the dance, me – it’s all for you.” 

His head lifted and he looked at her, understanding the message behind her eyes. _She wanted him more than anything._

He breathed heavily, trying to find the words. “I’ve wanted you since that first night I watched you dance. I was a fool to turn you down.” 

She smirked, a woman holding a man utterly undone beneath her thumb. “Then make it up to me.” 

His eyes darkened before his head snapped back to her breasts, feasting on her flesh with nibbles and licks, causing her body to writhe beneath him wildly, her back arching. 

His mouth detached from the skin of her breast and he rose on his knees. Slowly, seductively, he slipped the jacket from around his shoulders, and she realized somewhere in the evening, he had swapped his denim for the dark black leather. He threw the jacket to the ground, revealing the full cut of his dark gray Henley. Her hands came up to smooth out the fabric over his abdomen and she could feel the muscles beneath clench under her touch. 

He leaned back down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, not waiting for her to kiss back before his lips were traveling downward again, landing on her neck, her collarbone, the top of her breast. His hand that had been previously squeezing her tit was now settled on the inside of her thigh, inching inward toward her aching core. While his mouth worked her skin, she felt his finger slip through the thin strap of her panties and dip inside of her. 

The groan that came from his mouth vibrated through his lips directly into her skin as they were pressed together. 

“Goddamn, baby. You’re better than I imagined.” 

She arched her back again, the feeling of his finger inside her and the intimation of his words sending shockwaves through her body. It had been so long since she had felt this wonderful and powerful, gripped with this sudden surge of dominion as his finger slid in and out of her slowly, driven by the rhythm of his moans as he relished in the wet way she enveloped him. 

He never imagined she’d feel this tight around his finger. He expected her to be experienced, especially with the wild way she could seduce with the sway and gyration of her hips, but this was a whole other surprise. Immediately, his mind flashed images of her tight pussy swallowing his full cock as he drove into her over and over. He bit down on her chest, an impulse caused by the painful twitch in his pants. 

“Fuck, baby,” she whimpered, her hips beginning to roll with him. His eyes clenched tight, worried he would come in his pants if he didn’t fuck her soon. 

Just as she was verging on the crest of her first orgasm, the curtain from across the room flung open and a man walked in, obviously drunk as he carried a rocks glass with him. 

Veronica and Sweet Pea broke apart, his hand flying out of her panties as if they had been teenagers that were caught in a compromising situation. Quickly, Veronica recognized the man as the one she had told off earlier, the very same patron she knew Sweet Pea wanted to pummel. 

She scrambled to sit back up as the man eyed her, his words slurred. “Hey – I know you…. You’re that bitch that wouldn’t let me spank her ass.” He noticed Sweet Pea beside her, his breathing labored and his jacket on the ground. He narrowed his eyes at the biker and turned them back on Veronica. 

“Fucking slut. You’re going to let this grungy piece of shit between your legs but not me? This is a three-thousand dollar suit,” he shouted, his feet losing balance beneath him, causing him to stumble forward. 

Sweet Pea immediately threw himself from the bench, his earlier bout of anger returning full force. 

“Back the fuck off, man.” 

The man, feeling bold from the drink in his glass, glared daggers at Sweet Pea through sluggish eyes. 

“Fuck off.” 

Sweet Pea stepped toward him, putting distance between the drunk man and Veronica. “I said you need to back the fuck off, man. Don’t try and test me or you’ll get a fist up your ass. I suspect that’s not what you came back here for.” 

The man threw his glass across the room, choosing to take a swing at Sweet Pea. Behind him, Veronica screamed, taken aback by the sudden act, but Sweet Pea was quick, dodging to the right to avoid the fist. Next, he brought his own up and cracked the guy directly in the nose. 

The man stumbled back, blood beginning to pour from his nose, but he didn’t seem to care, flexing his fingers in a beckoning motion toward Sweet Pea. 

“Let’s go, fucker.” 

Sweet Pea cracked his neck and stepped forward, pushing the guy through the curtained partition and down the hall into the main room. Veronica was hot on their heels, her face marked in fear. 

The two men continued to tussle, the drunk customer landing a solid punch against Sweet Pea’s jaw and his stomach. Sweet Pea, however, had the obvious upper hand, and it wasn’t long before he was hovering over the man who was lying unconscious on the ground. 

Cheryl and Toni ran up to them both, and Veronica could see the fury written on both their faces. 

“Sweet Pea,” Cheryl yelled. “Get the Hell out right now.” 

He looked at her like that was the last thing he planned to do, the challenge there in his steaming eyes, but Toni backed up her demands. 

“Pea, go cool off. Now.” 

Sweet Pea’s jaw was clenched but he understood. He shot Veronica one last look, making sure she was safe before he stalked off through the main room and out the front door, slamming the metal entrance behind him. 

Cheryl turned her attention to Veronica, looking her up and down in disappointment. “Cover yourself.” 

Toni, whose face seemed less stern, pulled off her leather jacket and handed it to Veronica for her to wear. Suddenly, Veronica felt riddled with shame. She had given in to her baser urges and now there was a customer bleeding on the ground. When the EMTs came, this would only bring negative attention to the club, and judging by the looks on the faces of the other men in the crowd, the presence of Sweet Pea beside her, the new connection linking them together – she was seen as spoiled goods. No man would want a dance from her now, too paranoid some tall biker would beat them half to death. 

_What have I done?_ She asked herself, fearful of the consequences of her actions. She worried Cheryl wouldn’t forgive her, knowing how hard she had worked to build a positive reputation for the Wyrm. 

Veronica quickly fled from the main room, clutching the leather lapels of Toni’s jacket to her scantily clad chest. When she reached the inside of her dressing room, she shut the door behind her and began to cry. 

///////

It only took Cheryl forty minutes to cool down before she was rapping on Veronica’s dressing room door. She clicked the toe of her stiletto against the wood of the hallway floor and waited for her friend to allow her entry. 

Veronica unlocked the door and pulled it back a small distance, her eyes carefully scanning the hall for the visitor. When they landed on Cheryl, she sniffled and pulled the door back further for the redhead to enter. 

Cheryl crossed to the dresser while Veronica clicked the door shut behind them. She was wrapped in her mustard yellow silk robe, a tissue in her hand, mascara running down her reddened face. Cheryl clucked her tongue, running it over her teeth as she considered how to approach the topic with Veronica. 

“V – I love you, but what the Hell are you doing?” 

Veronica crossed to join her, leaning against the edge of the makeup counter. Her palms wrapped around the rim, her eyes drawn to the floor with shame. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, Cher. I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“Were you with him back there? Were you with Sweet Pea?” 

Veronica hesitated and then nodded in confirmation, her eyes still glued to the floor, focusing on a stray piece of lint rather than the disappointed expression on her friend’s face. 

Cheryl sighed and bit her bottom lip in thought. “This is no good, Veronica. This is no good at all.” 

“I know,” she mumbled. “I know it’s not a good idea, Cheryl. I didn’t expect any of this to happen.” 

“God, I thought you two hated each other?” 

Veronica bit her own lip. “I thought we did too. I guess seeing each other all this time has brought us closer.” 

They both sat in silence for a moment, the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. 

Cheryl was the first to bite. “What about Nick?” 

Veronica’s eyes flashed up to Cheryl’s and there was the disappointment she expected. “I don’t know. I’m not happy with Nick.” 

“And this is a suitable alternative? Rolling around on some velvet bench with a gang member?” 

“Hey – you hired those gang members. If you thought they were that dangerous, you shouldn’t have agreed to keep them in your employment.” 

“It’s not like that, V. They are not dangerous to you physically, but they’re bad news to your livelihood.” 

“And what about you and Toni?” Veronica threw back, hoping Cheryl’s hypocrisy would force her to tone down her rebuking. 

Cheryl’s eyes narrowed. “What about me and Toni? That doesn’t pertain to this conversation.” 

“It does when you’re questioning my involvement with a Serpent.” 

Cheryl sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Fair point. But Sweet Pea and Toni are two different people.” She took a step toward Veronica, her moves softer now that the edge had been taken off of her reprimands. “He hasn’t had an easy go of things, baby. You two are so very different – I’m worried how it would affect you.” 

Veronica scoffed. “Is this because I have money and he’s working with a gang in the poor part of some small hick town? You know that shit doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

“Doesn’t it, though?” 

Veronica paused, her next response caught dead on her tongue. 

“Think about it, V – why haven’t you left Nick? You say you’re not happy with him, that the sex life is abysmal. Why don’t you break things off?” Before Veronica could reply, Cheryl continued, answering for her. “It’s because behind everything else, behind this love you have for dancing and this need to escape, you are afraid of disappointing your daddy. You’re afraid of turning down the only life you’ve been familiar with. Sweet Pea – he’s a welcome distraction from the boring life you’ll never willingly leave behind. So again I ask – what the Hell are you doing?” 

They looked each other dead in the eye and Veronica struggled to find the words. Instead, she relented. 

“You’re right, Cheryl.” She exhaled a quick breath of air. “I’m so fucking lost right now.” 

Cheryl reached over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay to be confused, V. Hell, if I weren’t so deep into women, I could see the appeal of Sweet Pea. And it’s not hard to see he’s got a thing for you, and baby it looks intense. It scares the shit out of me, what I saw tonight between you two.” She squeezed her shoulder lovingly. “Just be careful, please. There’s only one of you and I can’t have you broken.” 

Veronica offered her a small smile and sniffled, the tears drying on her cheeks. “Thanks Cher. I’m sorry for all of the shit we caused tonight.” 

Cheryl shrugged it off. “It’s okay. The guys’ friends explained he was way too drunk to be respectable. I know he provoked you two. I just can’t have this place turning into Hiroshima every time you decide to dance with a paying customer.” 

Veronica nodded. “I know.” She bit her bottom lip, nearly afraid to ask her next question. “So what are you going to do about Sweet Pea?” 

Cheryl shot her a sideways glance. “He’s kicked out of the bar for the rest of the night. I won’t tolerate any of that bullshit in my club. I understand he’s here to be a bouncer, but he took it too far. He can come back tomorrow when he’s cooled off for a bit.” 

Veronica understood, pushing off of the counter as she began to clean up her station. 

Cheryl crossed to the door, recognizing the signal that Veronica wanted to be left alone. Before she left, she turned to watch her friend, feeling an instant onset of pity. Feelings shouldn’t be this Goddamn messy. 

“I’ll see you later tonight, V. Get home safe.” 

///////

Two hours later, Veronica was exiting the club, her overnight bag slung over her back and her head heavy with shame. Luckily, Cheryl had been forgiving enough to calm her down, and all she wanted right now was to fall into bed, sinking into the soft mattress in Cheryl’s guest bedroom. This day had turned on its head and become one giant mess. 

As the front door slammed behind her, she was startled by the shadow of a tall man exhaling from a cigarette along the front wall of the building. It took her a moment to realize it was Sweet Pea, a drop of blood dried in a dribble pattern from a cut on his jaw. He was hunched over, one of his boots propped back against the brick exterior, and when his eyes met hers, he looked like he had been the one beaten. 

“Veronica,” he muttered, and for a brief moment she forgot about the shame and embarrassment, wishing beyond measure she could take away the sadness in his eyes. However, the feeling was fleeting and the exhaustion set in. 

“What do you want, Sweet Pea?” 

He bristled in reaction to her annoyed tone, clearly not expecting her to be so dismissive after their earlier heated encounter. 

“What the Hell is wrong with you?” 

She rolled her eyes and continued walking toward her convertible, slinging her bag into the back seat. She could feel him close behind her and she pivoted on her heel to face him. 

“This was a mistake, SP. We shouldn’t have done what we did.” 

“Veronica, we kissed. What the Hell is so wrong with that?” 

“We took it too far. There’s too much…. I don’t know… but seeing you act the way you did with that guy scared the shit out of me.” 

“He was drunk and disgusting! And he called you a slut,” he shouted defensively. “Do you expect me to just sit back and let him do that?” 

She sighed, not in the mood for a fight. “I’m not sure what to expect from you, Sweet Pea. I don’t even know you.” 

“I’d say from the way your body moved against mine that you know me better than you think.” 

She shot him a dry glare. “You’re really choosing now to be perverse? This is not the moment.” 

“That’s not what I mean. What I’m trying to say is there’s something between us that has us both twisted up. It wasn’t just me feeling those sparks, Veronica, and don’t you dare fucking lie.” 

“I’m not going to say there isn’t chemistry between us, SP. We both know there clearly is.” 

“Do you think that’s something I can easily have with someone else? That it’s just easy for me to let someone in and take control over my head? Fuck – you’re infuriating and I knew it from the moment I met you.” 

“And you think you’re a lighthearted walk in the park?” 

“No, but at least I can admit when I’m being a stubborn asshole.” 

She shook her head, exhaling through her nose like an enraged bull. “You want a fucking fight, SP? Well, you’ve got it.” She slammed the car door shut behind her and stepped forward, pushing into his chest with her hands. 

“What the Hell were you thinking?” Suddenly, she was shouting, her words echoing into the night sky around the nearly empty lot of the closed dance club. “You snap so easily, I can’t stand it. You could have killed that guy, Sweet Pea. Jesus, you nearly beat him half to death!” 

“And I’m not sorry for it!” he shouted back at her, throwing his hands angrily into the air. He felt like she had punched him in the stomach when her eyes flew to his bunched up fists and flinched reactively. 

“Jesus, Veronica – do you think I would put my hands on you that way?” 

She bit her lip apprehensively, suddenly unable to speak, both nervous and ashamed that she thought he was capable of hurting her, highlighted by the hurt she saw in his eyes just then. 

“Veronica… I could never touch you that way.” He took a slow step toward her, trying to be reassuring. “I could never hurt you. Can’t you see that?” 

Despite herself, she still recoiled, and his eyes widened – and there she saw the shame painted on his own face. 

“You’re right – this was a mistake.” He started to back away from her. “I… I need to leave you alone.” 

He kept backing away from her, his head hanging low as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. He turned his back on her and began walking off into the night. It was then that she remembered his bike was out of commission and he had no ride. 

She suddenly felt like crying, holding back the urge to shout his name, call him back to her. 

_Fuck,_ she yelled at herself internally, realizing she had mucked this up for them both. 

In reality, though, he did terrify her at times, his temper flaring at any tiny hint of confrontation. There was so much undiscovered about Sweet Pea, but she remembered what Pop had told her earlier – above all else, Sweet Pea meant well. 

He had been protecting her from someone she knew had less than innocent intentions. Shouldn’t she be grateful for that? Shouldn’t she jump up and down with giddiness, attracted to the fact that this hot as Hell bad boy was willing to put his body in the line of fire to defend her honor? 

Shouldn’t she feel curious that out of all of the things that could piss Sweet Pea off, the obstacles to her safety was the biggest one, the single issue that made him jump into action? 

She supposed it was the military man in him that was quick to protect, but there was something that told her that was just part of Sweet Pea’s nature. It had become fairly clear that his history was not something out of a fairy tale, so much of it still unknown to her. Did she not owe it to him to find out, show him the benefit of the doubt? After all, though she knew she made him madder than a spitting snake, never once had he ever lifted a hand to her or even moved to do so. 

_Lord, what have I done?_

That moment with him in the VIP room had made her come utterly alive and undone at the same time. It was true passion that made a person unravel out of their hardened shell and spring forth with new flesh, with new purpose. No one had ever made her feel so emboldened, not even Nick. And now she had basically kicked him like a dog on his last leg, the hurt in his eyes flashing behind her own like a burn to the skin. 

She should have known better. This entire ordeal had become so much more complicated than she ever intended. She should have remembered what Cheryl first told her – Serpents weren’t known to have issues with women. After all, their current commander-in-charge was a woman with her own set of brass balls and they respected the Hell out of her. 

If she were being honest with herself, Veronica would admit that beneath the superficial fear that he could physically hurt her, there was the overwhelming trepidation that he could hurt her emotionally. She knew it was too fast to feel something for someone she barely knew, hadn’t even slept with or really kissed until this evening. And God, when they had kissed – 

It was like a whole new world had sprung before her eyes. Everything about him, the warmth of his skin, the spark from his kiss, the deft skill of his fingers, it all filled her with a sense of longing she was beginning to think didn’t exist. The passion she felt for him, above all, scared her more than anything. 

She was fucking terrified. 

She climbed into her car, the image of his back disappearing into the dark distance, and she settled behind the wheel for a minute, trying to regain her composure. She turned the ignition and skidded out of the lot, her foot pressed down on the pedal like a bat out of Hell. 

When the turn came for Cheryl’s street, she made a snap decision and kept moving forward. With the radio on silent and the wind blowing through her hair, she made her way back on the 304 and back toward Manhattan, the fear of the night behind her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them. 
> 
> Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove that she’s no angel after all.
> 
> Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment and thank the people who bother to leave me comments on this piece of work. If you follow me on tumblr, you know I have some major anxiety, and a lot of that stems from issues I have with my writing. Every word you give me is a push toward encouragement, and I appreciate it and appreciate the time you take to fill that little box out.
> 
> Some of you may have also seen the tease for my next fic, a pregnancy AU for SweetVee called "Three Peas in a Pod." I will be releasing more info in the next month or so, so stay tuned if you'd like to keep reading my shit :) 
> 
> Okay, I think it's about time you guys got the release you crave. You've been well-behaved enough and patient. Here's the fourth chapter of "No Angel," and I'm particularly proud of this one -- so much so that it's nearly as long as chapters one, two, and three combined. Enjoy! 
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

It was another week before Veronica stepped foot in the Southside, and Sweet Pea had felt tortured the entire time, his emotions a complete wreck as he replayed that night’s events over and over in his mind. After he had walked away from her in the parking lot, he had stopped at Pop’s for a cup of coffee, too worried that if he went back to his motel alone, he’d find a reason to drink. 

Truthfully, Sweet Pea wasn’t a known alcoholic like his father, but he purposefully avoided the vice. He remembered what it was like watching his father tumble down that slippery slope and he wanted no part of that. Instead, he chain smoked outside Pop’s in between cups of caffeine, the owner coming outside to join him in light conversation with every fresh pour. 

After his third cup and it was verging on dawn, Sweet Pea had trekked the rest of the way to his motel, a rundown building he had been lucky enough to find monthly rent at. Though he didn’t think he’d be leaving the Southside in any foreseeable future, Sweet Pea still couldn’t commit to more permanent lodging in town, something always holding him back when he considered putting his rent toward more long-lasting means. 

Perhaps it was the possibility that one day he’d wake up, look around, and be so disgusted with the life he had found himself in that he’d hop onto the back of his motorcycle and drive off, landing somewhere far away where he could start over fresh. 

However, he needed a working motorcycle to do any running away, first off, and it had been a long week without his bike. Friday afternoon, Mustang had called to say his rig was ready to ride and he hiked his way to the garage, spending a few hours chatting about club business while a few of the guys passed around a pack of cigarettes and smoked. 

When one of them asked about Veronica, inquiring about her sudden presence at the shop the week before, he felt himself visibly tense and they dropped the subject shortly after that. 

Each night, when he had laid in the cheap bed of his motel room, he tossed and turned, haunted by the image of her face wincing in fear at the sight of him angry. He had dreams of his hands turning into weapons, one large metal hammer and the other a steel claw, both of them damaging her beauty with every strike, and he would wake up in a cold sweat. 

There were times he questioned her right to be afraid of him. He had a temper – that was not new knowledge. He got it from his old man, the original John Culpepper an angry man with a massive chip on his shoulder. His father’s time with the Serpents had both been a blessing and a curse, a great distraction from the emptiness he felt inside while simultaneously encouraging the poor habits that ultimately brought him to his downfall. Sweet Pea had vowed to never turn out like his father, and watching Veronica turn sheet white when he raged in that parking lot – God, he never thought anything could hurt that bad. 

She had come into his life at the worst possible time. He had recently returned from duty, discharged and pissed off at the world. He was facing serious debt and the threat of homelessness, the fate of many veterans he had known before. Some might consider it lucky that the Serpents swooped in the moment he returned to the Southside, his father’s leather jacket clutched in FP’s hands as he held it out for the dark-haired former Marine to take. Though eighty percent of the time Sweet Pea hated his father, there was still that twenty percent, that inner voice that beckoned him toward the jacket, toward the legacy he knew he could easily slip into and get lost in. 

Anyone could say all of that equated to Sweet Pea’s own massive chip, weighing down on his shoulders like a boulder. 

_Fuck,_ he thought. How could she not be afraid of him? He was terrified of himself. 

And now he was beginning to feel terrified of the way she made him feel. 

In all of the relationships he had throughout his young life, and there were only a handful of them to count, none of the women had ever filled him with the kind of longing he felt when he was around Veronica. Even when she wasn't around, she was all he thought about. 

When he gathered around the Serpent’s table at the clubhouse, Toni standing at the helm going over routine club business, all he could picture was the dark penetrating doe-eyes that graced Veronica’s face. When he rode his bike across the Southside, he imagined what it would feel like to have her arms and thighs pressed around him, clutching to him for safety as they cruised through town, the wind blowing her beautiful black hair behind her in waves of silk. 

When he laid in bed alone, the slow squeak of the ceiling fan swirling above him, he’d lay with his hands behind his head and get himself worked up, thinking of Veronica naked on top of him, riding his cock like glory, her glorious tits bouncing for him as he made her come, and he’d have to slip his hands into his boxers and stroke himself to completion – whispering her name as he shot his load into the air. 

He was consumed with thoughts of her and all he knew about her was less than she knew of him – she danced at the Wyrm, she drove an expensive car, and it was clear she had known Cheryl before her tenure at the club. Beyond that, he was clueless, but it was almost enough for him to take this wobbly step toward feelings. 

And Sweet Pea never caught feelings. What the fuck was he thinking? 

_It didn’t matter now,_ he supposed. She had made it clear what had transpired between them that night was wrong, and to a certain degree he had to concur. They worked together. She clearly had cash and he barely had a red cent to his name. They both had attitudes the size of Texas. 

All signs pointed to them being from different sides of the tracks and no good for each other. 

Then why did it feel so fucking good when he was near her? 

She was dancing now at the Wyrm, across the room from his post at the front door, and it took everything in him to look away, compelled with every second to watch her move. It would only spell bad news if he gave in to the urge to be near her. 

Another ten minutes and he was settling into a booth, lighting a cigarette as he took a break, Fangs manning the door in his stead. He exhaled and watched as the newest girl took the stage, shaking her hips sensually to some hard rock ballad about fucking. 

A glass of something tan and fizzy appeared in front of him and his eyes refocused on the drink and the person holding it. Veronica stood near the edge of the booth, offering the glass to him as she towered above him in her outfit of the evening – a cheetah print long-legged body suit with no sleeves, creating a heart-shaped hem just below her collarbones, long matching cheetah print gloves covering her fingers to her biceps. There was a skirt that flared out from her hips in the same fabric, sewn together at the waist. 

“Drink?” 

He ashed his cigarette into the crystal tray in the center of the table and shook his head. “No thanks. I don’t drink.” 

He could see the look of uneasiness drawn across her face. “It’s just ginger ale, Pea. Can we talk for a minute?” 

He considered her as he inhaled from his cigarette, his eyes skimming the length of her body. “Sure.” 

She slid into the booth next to him and took a sip of his ginger ale. 

“Hey, I thought that was for me?” 

She grinned lightly. “It is. I was just thirsty. I promise I don’t have cooties,” she teased. 

He shrugged. “It’s not like our tongues haven’t touched.” He couldn’t help but smirk at her as he took another drag from his cigarette. 

“Right,” she replied, and he waited for her to finish. She sat there for a second longer than his patience allowed and he spoke up. 

“Out with it, Lodge.” 

She nodded, encouraged by his prompting. “Look – I’m sorry for last week. Though a lot of what I said was true, some of it wasn’t and I don’t think you would hurt me, not physically at least. I should have trusted my better judgment and I’m sorry if I made you feel like I had something to be scared of.” 

He pursed his lips, took a sip from the ginger ale she offered. “Fair enough. And I’m sorry. Not for pummeling that guy,” he clarified, eyeing her carefully, “but for lashing out at you. That wasn’t fair and you didn’t deserve that.” 

Her eyes widened, not expecting him to apologize back. “Thank you, SP.” She took another beat. “And I didn’t mean what I said – about us making a mistake. I think that was just rebound shit from something Cheryl had told me.” 

He stared at the orange glow at the end of his cigarette. “And what exactly did Cheryl say?” 

“She just put some things into perspective for me. We barely know each other, Pea.” 

He looked over at her face and could see she was watching him intently, inspecting his face for any sign of reaction. “I’d say you’re right about that.” 

She offered him a hopeful smile. “Well, why don’t we change that? Let’s start over, have an actual conversation that doesn’t involve an argument.” 

“Or my tongue down your throat?” He watched as the blush spread across her cheeks. 

“Or that, yes.” 

He crushed the tip of his cigarette into the ashtray, reaching into the pack on the table before lighting another one. “So who’s going to go first?” 

Veronica perked up in the booth, inadvertently scooting closer to him. He could feel the fringe of her skirt brush against the denim of his jeans. 

“I’ll go first. Tell me why you decided to join the military?” 

His brow quirked up. “Starting with the heavy shit then?” He sighed. “I joined right after I graduated from high school. My dad had just died and it was either the military or the Serpents. At the time, the military seemed like the smarter option, so I went with it.” 

“Was it scary? Being overseas with all of the war going on?” 

He hesitated. “Yeah – I saw a lot of shit I wished I hadn’t seen. It’s no cake walk and I lost a lot of people I cared about. That part was incredibly hard.” 

Veronica couldn’t help but give into the compulsion to rest her hand over his as it rested on the table top. He looked down at their embrace and continued. “But I carried on. There was still that large part of my life that loved the duty-bound responsibility to serve my country. My dad was never a man with a lot to be proud of and I loved being unlike him in that way.” 

“What was your dad like?” 

“He was a mean son of a bitch sometimes, and an even worse drunk.” 

“Is that why you don’t drink?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m not an alcoholic like him, but it’s one of those things where you ask yourself if tempting fate is worth it. To me, booze is nothing to spiral out for.” 

“I can understand that.” 

He shot her a sideways glance, aware that their hands were still attached, the gentle warmth of her soft palm covering his calloused knuckles. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yep. I grew up in Manhattan – a rich, snobby girl surrounded by even snobbier friends. I saw my fair share of addiction in the girls’ bathroom of my high school.” 

“Never interested in anything stronger than dancing?” 

She chuckled, amused that he recognized her form of drug. “Nope. Nose candy was never my thing, nor is alcohol, really. I like a good glass of wine with dinner or a bath, otherwise I’m fine.” 

“Hmm, I’d like to see that.” 

She bit her bottom lip, happy that the atmosphere between them was becoming light again. 

“So tell me more about Manhattan. And what the Hell brought you to Riverdale?” 

She let out a quick exhale through pursed lips. “Well, like I said, I grew up in a wealthy family. My dad owns a major corporation in New York so that’s why I haven’t left the city. I’m meant to take over, I guess – or rather, my future husband is. I don’t know if my father will ever trust a woman to run his business fully.” 

“Sounds like we both have daddy issues.” 

She laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I used to dance in the city, but I had a close call with someone I knew so I turned tail and never went back to that club again. Not long after, Cheryl called and told me that she had opened the Wyrm and was looking for girls to dance. She knew I had a passion for it so I took the next weekend to drive up here and check it out, and here I am three months later.” 

“What is it about dancing that fills you with passion?” 

She thought about his question for a moment, overtaken by the thrill that he had even cared to ask a question that was so close to her heart. “There’s just something about being on that stage – the eyes watching me as I flit about in little costumes, nothing more than a few simple winks and the sway of my hips – it makes me feel alive.” 

He watched as her eyes lit up, his heart beginning to warm at the sight. 

“My life before burlesque had been so boring. I went to work, came home at night, started it all over the next day. There was nothing that thrilled me anymore, not even the parties and the glamour and the fashion. Don’t believe what they say when they tell you money can make you happy.” 

He chuckled. “Money can make you happier than a lot of things can.” 

“Sure, but it’s not everything, and when you’ve been on that end of the green, you realize there’s so much in life that you’re missing out on.” She considered her next statement before continuing, worried how he might react. “I have a long-term boyfriend and even he doesn’t make me happy.” 

His back stiffened and his posture straightened, his eyes coming to stare into her own. He looked confused and a bit irritated. “Boyfriend?” 

She nodded. “I know I should have told you about him earlier. It just didn’t seem to matter.” 

“I’d say it matters a Hell of a lot.” 

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Life with Nick – it’s nothing like my life here in Riverdale. There’s nothing about our relationship that makes me want to go back to Manhattan.” 

He asked the obvious question. “Then what the Hell are you still doing with him?” 

She shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip from the ginger ale they now shared. “I ask myself that question all the time. I’d say it’s easy being with him, it’s comfortable, but how easy or comfortable can it be to be unhappy all the time?” 

Sweet Pea took a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled, stealing a glance at her lips as she bit them nervously. “Is the sex bad too?” 

Her eyes snapped to his and she felt herself tense up, wondering if it was wise to tell him the truth – not sure if he’d take the news as a challenge. 

“It’s not great.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “His idea of adventurous is fucking with the lights on.” 

Sweet Pea shrugged. “I mean – he’s not wrong. That’s pretty fucking good.” 

“Yeah, but that’s as far as creativity goes when it comes to our sex life.” 

“So what you’re telling me is that it’s blander than sand and you’d rather dance in front of old men here than be home banging him.” 

She frowned. “When you say it like it, it makes me sound like shit.” 

He shook his head. “You’ll get no judgement from me there, babe. I know just how important sex can be to a healthy life.” 

She quirked her eyebrow, curiosity getting the best of her. “Oh yeah? Been getting any lately?” 

He laughed, seeing through her line of questioning. “Why? Jealous?” 

She shrugged casually. “I mean, you and I have no legal ties. I guess you can do what you want to do.” She tried to sound cool, but truthfully she was shaking inside thinking of him buried inside some other girl. 

He smirked at her words and suddenly she felt his hand slip out from beneath hers and land gently on the top of her thigh. His touch moved inward and he leaned closer to her ear, whispering softly, “Don’t worry, Veronica. I haven’t wanted anybody but you in weeks.” 

She felt the shiver move through her and she immediately wanted to be anywhere with him that was dark and secluded where they could be alone and loud. 

She licked her bottom lip, biting it softly as naughty thoughts flew through her mind, his touch deepening as it hovered an inch away from her aching center. Just when she thought he was about to touch her further, his hand retracted and he sat up. The cigarette in his other hand was quickly extinguished. 

She cleared her throat. “That wasn’t nice, SP.” 

“I don’t play nice, baby.” He slid out from the booth and looked down at her. “Want to come find out?” 

She looked around her suddenly, panicking at his invitation openly made in the public space. “I can’t leave right now. I’m on the clock.” 

He shrugged. “After work, then. You can leave your car here and I’ll take you for a ride.” He held his hand out for her to take, offering to help her out of the booth. “What do you say? Feeling like playing the game with me?” 

She stared at his hand hesitantly. She knew she was playing with fire, but tonight she felt like being burned. 

She took his hand and hoisted herself out of the booth. She looked him dead in the eye before reaching up on her tip toes and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“I’ll meet you in an hour. Don’t be late.” She sauntered away a few steps before turning back to address him. 

“And Pea – you’re not the only one who knows how to play games.” 

His eyebrow perked up as she walked away, her hips swaying more than they normally did, his eyes glued to her perfectly rounded ass. 

He let out a slow exhale before returning to his post by the front door. He knew at least one of them was in for a wild ride tonight, and he was beginning to feel he’d be the one spinning out. 

///////

For the rest of her time at the Wyrm, Veronica was riddled with anxiety, the anticipation of finally feeling Sweet Pea move inside her making her nerves feel like someone was flipping tables in her insides. 

She had never been this anxious or excited to fuck someone. The fact that they had planned it ahead of time instead of spontaneously disappearing into her dressing room to bang only made her more nervous, and she was worried her shitty sex life with Nick would only reflect in her attempts to be seductive in bed with Sweet Pea. 

When the time came for her to exit the club and leave for the night, she took one last look at the empty stage, trying to draw from some of the confidence she felt when she was dancing on top of it. 

When she pushed the door of the Whyte Wyrm outward, feeling the rush of warm, sticky midnight summer air, she nearly lost her breath at the sight of Sweet Pea on his bike, parked immediately in front of the entrance. His hair had been tossed around by the breeze and he looked dangerous, all black leather and starch blue denim straddling a thick vehicle of steel with his tall legs. His brown eyes drank her in and she shivered when she saw the smile form on his face. 

He held a helmet out to her. “Safety first.” 

He could kick himself for the corny joke, but the sight of her had all the blood rushing from his brain to the bulge in his pants, the thought of their near future plans causing his dick to get incredibly hard. She was dressed in a pair of short white cut-offs and a sleeveless denim top that tied above her midriff, leaving the skin of her stomach exposed. She had taken off all of the stage makeup, replacing it instead with a light sweep of blush and soft pink lipstick. She wore a pair of cowboy boots, and for a second Sweet Pea wondered how the Hell he was going to get those off quick enough, succumbing to the idea that he’d have to fuck her with her boots on. 

It wasn’t an entirely terrible idea. 

She reached for the helmet and put it on, tightening the vinyl straps in the metal loops. She heard him turn the engine, bringing the bike quickly to life. 

“Hop on,” he instructed, and she straddled the bike easily, shifting her weight equally on the seat. Her hands rested gently on his sides and he chuckled. 

“You need to hold on tighter than that, baby.” 

She felt flushed and let out a slow breath. _Why the fuck am I so nervous?_ She asked herself. Instead of replying with some witty comment, she tightened her grip around him, her arms sliding around to clutch onto his stomach while her thighs moved in to squeeze his. 

The feel of her embrace was everything he imagined and more, her soft body pressing against his back, her perfume wafting toward his nose in the breeze around them. 

He released the brake and they went streaking through the near empty lot and out onto the main road. They cruised through the Southside, the dark corners of the neighborhood peering out at them as they whizzed past the homes, through the network of small shops in the downtown square. He took her deeper into the Southside, beyond the trailer park and beyond Gibb Automotive, gliding into a motel parking lot. He slowed the bike down as he steered it toward a door on the far end of the building. 

They parked in front of door number 3, the building before them a sour looking yellow weathered by time. The door was a burnt orange, the window frames an ancient red, and Veronica wasn’t sure which color came first and which had been changed by old age. There was a wall unit jutting out from just beneath the window, which she assumed was for hot summer nights like this one. 

He angled the bike and turned off the engine, allowing her to dismount first. When she removed her helmet, she brushed her hair thoroughly with her hands. 

“Is this where you live?” 

He was pleased that she seemed more curious than sympathetic. He didn’t think pity would work with what he had in mind for the night. 

“Yeah. I’ve only been in town for a few months and I haven’t really committed to buying property yet.” 

They both crossed to the front door and he inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly as Veronica boldly lifted her hands behind him to caress his back. 

When he turned the knob, they stepped inside and she quickly took in his surroundings. 

In the center of the room was the main attraction, a large queen-size bed covered in a thin red comforter with an odd paisley design and two fluffy white pillows. There was a dresser near the window, currently covered in half-empty packs of cigarettes and a handful of loose change. Across from the bed was an old 12” television, though Veronica couldn’t imagine Sweet Pea laying back, watching TV. Instead, she gravitated toward the stack of old paperbacks that littered one of his side tables next to a well-used ashtray, covered in the thick soot of stale cigarettes. 

The air had a clean smell to it despite the musty appearance, but it was homey and surprisingly, Veronica didn’t feel like she was missing out being here. 

With him. 

He tossed his keys onto the dresser and circled around in the small space to face her, and suddenly the air between them became too thick, too awkward. Veronica thought about saying something to lighten the mood, but her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. 

Sweet Pea’s breathing began to quicken and she realized he was just as nervous as her, and the thought thrilled her. 

As if they had both read each other’s minds, happy to find they shared the kindred dread of anxiety, they both closed the space between them, crashing into each other with a firm press of lip against lip. Her hands flew up to cross around his neck and he lifted her up swiftly, shoving her body against his chest as he took her to the wall beside the bed. Her legs wrapped around his hips and they began to roll together, wasting no time feeling the heat of her center grind against the hard erection in his pants. 

His tongue found its way into her mouth quickly and together they tangled, exchanging warm saliva and hard moans as they moved with each other. One of her hands slipped from his neck to travel up the inside of his shirt, moving from the bottom hem toward his pecs, her nails skimming the surface of his skin teasingly. 

That move earned her a firm press of his groin against hers, and her head flew back in ecstasy. 

“That thing is dangerous,” she whispered, her voice throaty and thick. 

His mouth slunk down to her neck and he began to nibble on the skin there. “Baby, you have no fucking idea.” 

The wait was torturous, but she had a feeling the build-up would be half the fun, choosing to revel in the foreplay as his mouth sucked on her pulse point. She moaned and bucked against him, the quick formation of a hickey blossoming on her heated skin. 

“You better be buying the makeup to cover that blotch up, jerk,” she muttered, her tone playful. “I can’t dance with my neck all black and blue.” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replied slowly, and for once, neither did she. 

Her hand slid down his chest, this time grabbing hold of the hem, wanting to yank it off. He broke apart from her neck and set her down on the ground, his six-foot-five self towering over her five-foot-four form, her lips adjacent to the section of skin between his pecs. She leaned in to kiss him there through the fabric. He watched her, eyes darkened with lust, and when she leaned back against the wall he began to disrobe, tossing his leather jacket furiously across the room. He reached down for the hem of his t-shirt and that came off as well, exposing the hard planes of his chest to her direct eyesight. 

He gave her a moment, allowing her eyes to roam the expanse of his skin like an explorer on a new quest. He shivered where her fingers traveled back to his stomach, tracing a soft line from navel to nipple, flicking the tiny pebble of flesh with the tip of her finger. When she reached out with her tongue and licked at his chest, he growled low and deep. 

She paid equal attention to each nipple before her hands came up to press against his pecs, giving her body leverage as she stepped onto her toes to press a gentle kiss on his lips. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned sinful, her tongue dipping between his lips and swirling inside his mouth. He reached for her wrists and brought them up above her head, linking them together as his mouth feasted on hers. 

_It’s all going too slow,_ he thought. He needed to have her squirming beneath him and fast, the aching bulge in his pants throbbing with every kiss and every touch. His mouth broke apart from hers and he bent forward, his teeth grabbing hold of the scrap of fabric that was tied together to secure her blouse. He found the material was loose enough for him to tug, exposing the lower bottom of her chest, the top still covered in a series of buttons. 

As she watched him untie her top with his teeth, she began to feel the warmth pool out of her between her legs. She was too wet, too hot. She needed him more than anything, drunk on the thought of him touching her, fucking her with everything he had. 

His mouth pressed soft kisses on the underside of her breast, his body traveling up to hover over her. He released her wrists and brought his hands to the seam of her shirt, secured by the buttons. He watched as she bit her lip in anticipation and he yanked, ripping the fabric apart, sending the plastic buttons in the air to scatter along the floor beneath them. 

She moaned out, relishing in his rough and ready attitude. She watched as his eyes darkened even more, frozen on her exposed breasts, realizing she hadn’t worn a bra under her top. 

“Well I wasn’t expecting that,” he mumbled, followed by a groan as his fingers left the front of her top to brush against her dark mauve nipples with his thumbs. 

“I told you I know how to play too.” 

His eyes flew to hers and he smirked. “You planned this, you little shit.” 

She traced the bottom of her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I think you underestimate me.” 

His smirk grew. “I don’t think I’ll be making that mistake again.” 

He bent down to take one of the nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand caressed her other breast, kneading it in his palm. Her fingers came up to card through his hair, pushing through the tangles with force as he began to suck harder. 

When he bit down mildly on her flesh, she moaned out into the space around them. 

He soothed her skin with a flick of his tongue, turning her loud moans into soft whimpers. 

“That’s it, baby,” he prompted, and she tipped back her head again, whimpering and moving her hips as his mouth continued to work on her breasts. She ached to have him pressed against her, jutting her hips out in search for his own. 

He chuckled against her breast, his lips circling a nipple. He bent further, holding his hips far from hers. 

“No ma’am – I believe this is what they call payback.” 

Veronica sighed out loud exasperatedly, overwhelmed by the heat coursing through her. 

“Just fuck me, Sweet Pea,” she whispered into the air above her and he felt the fine threads of his control begin to snap. He released her nipple from his mouth, his lips returning to hers to silence her. His hands slid down her chest to finger the buckle of her thin brown belt, loosening the latch as he worked it through her belt loops. 

“This could be fun,” he smirked against her lips. 

The thought of him using the belt against the soft flesh of her ass turned her on more than she expected, another pulsing wave of warmth gushing out of her core. 

He yanked the belt out from the remaining loops and tossed it to the ground, his hands immediately returning to the top of her white denim shorts. He slowly popped the button and lowered the zipper, feeling her hips roll in his grasp. When her bottoms were undone, he grabbed the top seam and shimmied them down her silky tan legs. When they had fallen to her ankles, she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep her balance as she stepped out of them. 

He didn’t waste time burying his hand beneath the elastic band of her fancy hot pink lace panties, his finger curving inside her swiftly, pumping in and out of her as she pulled him closer through her grip around his neck. 

The sounds of her arousal sang in the air around them, the squishy noise of her wetness growing louder as his finger fucked her. 

“Damn, baby. You’re dripping wet from just a little fingering. You trying to soak my carpet?” 

She groaned, the pleasure of his pumping driving her slowly insane. “Shut the fuck up, Pea, and just do me.” 

Her sharp tongue and unexpected response sent another wave of lust straight to the gut and groin, and he picked up his tempo, adding another finger inside her as he thrust, her hips rolling with the wave of his rhythm. 

He could feel another thread of control snap at the shivering sensation of her pussy walls and he knew she was close to coming. He wanted to watch her come completely undone before him, the only vision he had of her this close, one he had crafted in his mind, night after night, there in the bed next to them. 

“Let go, baby. Goddamn, just let go.” 

Veronica’s grip around his neck tightened suddenly, yanking him forward so fast he had to brace himself against the wall with his other hand, as she climaxed around him, a warm gush of sticky liquid seeping down her channel and onto his fingers. 

She had been taken back by the force of her orgasm, one unlike anything she had experienced before. Her body shook and she saw stars, blinded by the intensity of his fingers swirling and bending inside her. After she had finished, the aftershocks following close behind, she felt like falling to the floor, her bones like molten goop. 

His lips found hers and she could feel his arrogant smile turn up at the corners of his mouth. 

“Proud of yourself, are you?” 

“Damn right. I’ve never made someone come that quick.” 

She released the grip around his neck, one of her hands coming in to sweep her tousled hair back from her face. 

“Well, remind me to give you a gold star sticker next time we’re at the Wyrm.” 

Her voice sounded sleepy, but he wasn’t done with her yet. 

“I’m about to go for platinum.” His hand snuck out of her, and just as she was moaning for his fingers to come back, the absence of his digits filling her with an aching sense of loss, she silenced herself and watched as he began to undo the front of his jeans. 

“It’s getting a little too snug,” he joked, unzipping his pants and pulling the seam apart, making room for his hard erection to poke out, unconfined. The fact that he went commando somehow didn’t shock her, but instantly her core began to pulse with need. 

She licked her lips as he loosened the area around his dick some more, the peak of him tipping out through the black denim front section of his jeans. He watched her intently, growing more and more aroused with the way she focused on his cock, subconsciously biting and licking her lips. 

God, she looked fucking sexy as Hell. Did she have any idea? 

“Like what you see, princess?” 

She glowered up at him. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to call me that anymore.” 

“I didn’t agree to shit,” he teased. 

Aiming to punish him, she brought her hand to his front, cupping him, still tucked mostly inside his pants, in the palm of her hand. 

“Oh fuck…” he whispered, the sensation of her soft palm gripping his cock driving him wild. 

“Let’s see what I can do with this,” and she proceeded to show him, folding back the seam of his pants to watch him spring free from beneath its trappings. 

There between them was the long, thick appendage she had been dreaming about, night after night, in her Manhattan apartment. All of her questions were finally being answered as she took him in with her eyes. Circumcised, about seven inches, thick as Hell, and veiny beyond measure – his erection almost painful looking at this point. 

She reached out to touch him, hoping to release the ache he felt, but when she gripped him and began to move, he reached out to halt her wrists. 

He gave her a hard glare and shook his head. “Not tonight, baby. I’m about to go off and I want to do it inside you.” 

She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips, immediately feeling embarrassed at her lack of control. He looked like he was feeling the same, his breathing beginning to pick up as his dick twitched between them. 

“Take off those Goddamn boots,” he demanded, and she did as she was told, sitting on the side of the bed as she yanked them from her feet. She pulled her socks off, along with the thin layer of her underwear, and sat back, waiting for him. 

He shoved his jeans to the ground, stepping out of them and his combat boots as he palmed himself, watching her naked body displayed like dessert on his bed. 

He stepped in and leaned over her, their bodies moving back toward the head of the bed together. His hand trailed down her front, tracing around one breast before coming down to her pussy again, his fingers sliding inside her once more to elicit her wild moan. 

“Sweet Pea – I can’t take anymore. Fuck me – God, please just fuck me.” 

It was normally beneath Veronica to beg for anything, but his touch was bringing out her feral side, and all she wanted was a rough and hard fuck right there in the bed with him. She suddenly didn’t care if she had to plea and whine and yell to get her way. 

His hand slid out of her and shoved her arching body back down onto the mattress, his falling over hers in suit. He braced himself up above her with his palms, the hard muscles of his biceps flexing as he tensed, his cock tipping down to brush against her. 

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his eyes growing wild and primitive. 

“You,” she whimpered. 

“Tell me again.” 

“You.” 

“Fucking scream it at me.” 

She sent him a lethal look, nearly blowing steam from her nostrils as he continued to tease her, but she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“You, mother fucker! I want you inside me right now.” 

Her shouts in the hollow room around them filled him with madness and he reached down for his dick, taking hold of it halfway down the length before leading the tip to her entrance. When she started to moan and whimper beneath him, he shoved himself inside and felt heaven. 

She was the wettest, tightest, warmest pussy he had ever had, the suction of her walls enveloping him like a well-fit glove, and when he began to move inside her, he thought he was going blind. 

“You feel so Goddamn good, Veronica.” 

His use of her first name caused her to quiver, the stretch of his dick inside her burning her slowly through his thrusts. Her hands came up to cup his face, but he reached up quickly and shoved them down beside her, his fingers lacing with hers as they gripped together. 

He grunted as she moaned, thrust after slick thrust, and his eyes never left hers. Sweet Pea had had rough sex before, and he was no stranger to one night stands, but this right here between them was different. He searched for her in her eyes, looking for a place to rest his woes for the night, and he found it there in her. 

There was something so special about Veronica that he couldn’t explain, the feeling of their unity only confirming just how powerful their connection was. 

“Shit,” she whimpered, feeling the familiar tingling of climax beginning to build in her toes. 

Feeling inspired, he rolled over, his dick still embedded within her, as he brought her on top of him. Her hair fell around him like the willowy curtain of a lagoon, the tips of her strands tickling the bare skin on his chest. She leaned down to capture his mouth in a kiss just as her hips began to grind, straddling him and riding him rough and raw. 

He arched his hips up to meet hers and he held her hands up, anchoring her as they deepened their fuck. She threw her hair back like a madwoman, the black tendrils mirroring the black of her lust-fueled eyes as she gyrated and surfed over his cock, rising up to his tip before sinking down to take him fully inside her. 

“Fuck me, baby. Fuck me,” he called out to her, watching as she began to topple over with her second orgasm. He could feel her clench around his dick and it was one of the most euphoric things he had ever felt, her pussy quivering and relaxing and then clamping down on his hard length of flesh inside her. 

“Oh God!” she cried out, her hands flying up to cup her breasts and squeeze. He gulped, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. He could feel his own orgasm nearing, but he needed to have her more, his craving for her suddenly becoming insatiable. 

He sat up, gripping her bent legs to wrap around his waist as she took him in deeper, this new angle making her cry out with the aftershocks of her second coming. She could already feel herself nearing a third. 

“Oh God, Sweet Pea,” she shouted. “Fuck, I’m coming again…. I’m coming again… I’m commm…” 

He heard her trail off and watched as her eyes rolled in the back of her head, felt the wave surge through her, causing her to arch her back forward, thrusting her breasts into his chest, and this final clench had him tipping over the edge with her. 

He gripped her hips roughly and bit down on her shoulder before thrusting into her one more time, his mouth flying free from her skin as he called out her name, spilling himself deep inside her. 

They sat there, attached, for another minute or so, time seeming like a meaningless element, as they fought to catch their breath. Their bodies were sweaty and sticky, overheated and oversexed. When she came to, she could feel him planting small, soft kisses along her shoulder where he had bit her, an incredibly kind gesture, and her heart suddenly began to swell. 

“So what do you think?” he whispered against her skin. “Did that break your dry spell?” 

She let out a soft laugh, her lips curling up into a grin, and her hand traced a path up his back to his neck, where she lightly fingered the wisps of hair that clung to his sweaty skin. 

“More like the flood gates opened.” 

“I’d say,” he replied, lifting his head to press a gentle kiss on her bee stung lips. “I didn’t think anyone could get that wet.” 

“Shut up,” she chuckled. She looked into his brown eyes, which had softened remarkably after their romp. She didn’t realize how kind they looked as they glowed from the moon and the lights shining through the window, cast by the street lamp outside. She reached up with her other hand and brushed a stray hair away from his eyes. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he felt his heart take a soft squeeze. He searched in her eyes, trying to read where her mind was at. 

“You’re welcome.” 

He leaned in and kissed her again, this time a bit more firm, and their bodies moved as one as he slid out of her and lowered her down onto the mattress, her head pointed toward the foot of the bed. Her hair cascaded over the edge like a waterfall at midnight, and her skin glistened under the moonlight. His legs slipped out from under her, and he was effectively stacked on top of her, careful to keep his body propped on his elbows to prevent crushing her. With her lying there, unclothed, her eyes glowing in the dark, she seemed so small and fragile. 

He couldn’t help but be mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful, Veronica.” 

She blinked, not quite sure how to respond. After a beat, she cleared her throat. “Maybe I did a better job than I thought. Looks like sex fried your brain.” 

He laughed off her playful insult, trying not to let it affect him so personally. This is what they did – light banter, easy sarcasm. 

“I think we both needed a little rattling, baby.” 

She sighed lazily, her face breaking out into a wide grin, her hand coming up to brush at her hair. “That we did. Jesus, that was wonderful.” 

“Right back at ya, sweetness.” He rolled over to where he was lying beside her. His hand came up to rest on his stomach, the other cushioning the back of his lower head. He could feel her turn onto her side to face him. 

“So why aren’t you bringing a girl back here every night?” 

His head turned to face her. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you clearly know what you’re doing and you’re obviously very good looking. I know you could easily have any of the girls at the club. So why aren’t you indulging?” 

He smirked at her. “You think I’m good looking, huh?” 

She rolled her eyes at him, her sass beginning to arouse him again. 

“Stop evading, Pea.” 

He sighed loudly and chuckled. “I don’t know. It’s just not on my list of priorities. If I need to take care of business, I can always do it by myself. It’s like not it’s a necessity to have a warm body in this bed with me.” 

“Except that just happens to be where I’m at tonight.” 

He rolled over to face her. “That you are. But it’s mostly because you’re a giant pain in my ass. I knew you wanted me since you first saw me so I had to finally give you what you wanted.” 

She was rolling her eyes and laughing at his entire speech, and his own laughter mirrored hers. “Oh, come on. You’ve wanted my ass since you first saw me dance in that gold dress.” 

“That couldn’t have happened. The dress you were wearing was silver.” 

“Ha!” she pointed at his chest and poked playfully. “Point made.” 

This time, Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, adopting her feisty attitude. “Let’s just agree that the feeling was mutual.” He scooted closer to her, his lips an inch from hers. “But you’re right. I wanted you that first night. And you being a big pain in my ass only made me want you more.” 

Veronica felt the butterflies in her tummy begin to stir. “And now that you’ve had me?” she whispered, curious for his reaction. 

He remained calm, his eyes flicking from her own to her lips and back up again. “What do you think?” 

Her breathing picked up and she could feel the apex between her thighs begin to ache again. His eyes considered her lips once more before he finally rolled back, putting both hands behind his head. 

“So exactly which girls at the Wyrm want me? I may need to amend my checklist.” 

She slapped his stomach playfully and his hands folded over, his abs crunching inward in response. He laughed lightly. “Hey!” 

“Don’t be a dick, SP.” 

“You’re the one that brought up other women.” 

She blushed, realizing he was right. She couldn’t help her curiosity, though, the sensation of jealousy waiting on the sidelines to leap into action. 

“It was more of a way of getting the question out. You always seem so pent up. I’d hate to think it’s been since the military since you’ve gotten laid.” 

His eyebrows lifted, his body back to being relaxed. “And if that were the case?” 

She smirked. “Oh Jesus, Pea. That’s horrible.” 

“Well, from the sound of it, you really haven’t had a sex life to write home about either.” 

She clucked her tongue. “Touche.” 

“Like I said – if I want to rub one out, I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.” 

She felt like being a little frisky and she skimmed her hand across the sheets between them to trail up the side of his leg to find his length, already semi-hard. 

“But it’s so much more fun with another person.” 

He closed his eyes as he felt her begin to palm him, the lust beginning to cloud his thoughts, loosening his tongue. 

“God, that’s so much better than I imagined.” 

She bit her bottom lip, her hand working him slowly. “So you’ve imagined this.” 

His eyes flew open, realizing he had spoken aloud, and he turned his whole body until he was on top of her. Her hand loosened to allow him to move, but once he was back on top of her, she continued to grasp him gently, pumping him up and down at a gentle pace. 

“Do you really want to know what I imagined you doing in this bed, Veronica?” His eyes were glowing with mischief now and her pussy grew excited, already incredibly wet. 

“Yes,” she whispered. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss below her ear before whispering his husky words in the small distance between them. 

“I’ve thought long and hard about that pretty little mouth of yours sucking me off, taking in every last drop. I’ve thought about those incredible tits of yours bouncing up and down into my face as you take my cock deep inside you, riding me like the world’s about to end. I’ve pictured you sitting on my face, coming over and over again, drowning me with your pussy juices.” His tongue slipped out to tickle her ear lobe. 

“In this bed, in my dreams, we never stop. I can’t get enough of you.” 

She closed her eyes slowly and whimpered, the rhythm of her hand job beginning to pick up and change. She could feel his hips rolling into her palm, hear his soft moans by her ear. 

“I want to make you come,” she whispered and he felt his dick twitch in her hand. 

“Just keep doing that, baby, and you will. That feels so fucking good.” 

She continued to stroke him, encouraged by the sounds of pleasure he was making in her ear. 

“So did you rub one out thinking of me, Sweet Pea?” she whispered. 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “Every single night.” 

“Did you come thinking about me?” 

“More times than I could count.” 

“Where did you imagine coming?” 

He chuckled breathily against her ear. “Not on your tits,” and she smiled, pleased he remembered their conversation that night after Pop’s. 

“Did you come in my mouth?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you come in my hand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you come in my pussy?” 

“Ugh, yes – everywhere I could come in or on you, I did. So much come, baby. You always got me there.” 

She jerked him faster with every question, working to bring him to completion. She could feel the rhythm of his hips start to falter, feel his body begin to shake as he fought to prop himself above her on his arms. 

“Where do you want to come now?” 

She looked up to watch him when his head lifted above her, his eyes closed, his face contorted in ecstasy, his teeth biting his lip hard. He shook his head softly. “I don’t give a fuck, baby. Just feeling you stroke me like that is amazing enough.” 

“Lay on your back, SP.” 

His eyes opened to meet hers and he nodded before quickly tumbling to his back. She released him from her hand and slid down the bed, finding him fully erect and standing at full attention. Without ceremony, she gripped him around the base and brought her lips to the tip, quickly enveloping him in the warmth of her mouth. When he growled out loud, she began to bob up and down, pressing her cheeks inward to form light suction around his cock. 

“God _damn,_ Veronica. That feels fantastic, baby.” 

She swirled her tongue around his length in her mouth, building the saliva up in her mouth to better lubricate her mouth fuck. The wet sounds she made taking him in and out were driving him absolutely bonkers, the feel of her hot spit and silken tongue bringing him to the brink of madness. 

“Fuck baby, keep doing that. Jesus Christ, I’m close.” 

He normally didn’t come this fast, his dick stamina one for the books, but with her mouth working him the way it was – it’s a miracle he wasn’t coming already. He did his best to hold off, the feel of her blowing him better than heavenly. 

She slowed down her pace, taking the time to peer up at him with her heavy lidded eyes, watching his face scrunched up tight, his teeth trapping his tongue. His upper body was squirming lightly and he looked completely undone. She felt the surge of power course through her veins and suddenly she felt like taking it up another level. 

She released his dick from her mouth with a hard pop and trailed her tongue down his length before landing on the crease between his balls. Her lips pressed a soft kiss before she took one of them gently into her mouth, swirling the sensitive bit of him around carefully while her hand came up to caress his other ball. 

“Oh Jesus…..” he groaned loudly. 

She switched off, taking the other ball into her mouth while the tips of her fingers fondled the one she had previously been suckling. She watched as his hands flew down to the sheets to grip roughly, twisting them in his hand with every brush of her tongue over him. 

She released his balls from both hand and mouth, gripping his cock again by the base and bringing the tip of her tongue to the head, lapping at it like candy. His head rolled back on his neck and he let out a long exhale. 

“I want you to come in my mouth,” she commanded, her lips coming down in a soft “O” shape over his tip, dragging him down into her mouth until her lips straddled the base, gagging her. 

“Fuck!” he shouted out into the room and she could feel his control begin to slip. She bobbed up and down, over and over, and about ten seconds later he was warning her that he was about to spill into her mouth. 

When she tasted him, warm, a bit salty but clean, the faint hint of smoke from his cigarettes flavoring his come, she felt a bit drunk, heady and hot. 

She sucked off every last drop, swallowing back his semen with two solid gulps. She licked the tip again for good measure and released him from her mouth, slowly dropping him into the palm of her hand before resting his now limp cock between his thighs. 

She crawled back toward the foot of the bed, lying next to him with her forearms crisscrossed behind her head. 

“Well, holy shit – where did that come from?” 

She smirked. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” 

“Oh yeah? Anymore you’d like to share with the class? That was amazing.” 

They sat there for a minute before Sweet Pea rolled over to face her, bracing his head up with his hand. “So how do you know Cheryl?” 

She shot him a questioning glance. “Why are you thinking about Cheryl?” 

He chuckled. “I know it was a bit of an odd segue way. I’ve just been meaning to ask you. You both seem so close. I mean, you’re staying over at her place.” 

“We went to college together. Sorority sisters.” 

“Sorority – so that must be where you learned to do that thing with your tongue.” 

She laughed out loud. “No, no. I didn’t learn anything from that sorority other than mixing vodka and anything chocolate is a bad mistake.” 

“Mixing vodka with anything is a mistake. That shit’s disgusting.” 

“Yeah, so we were both in the sorority and just continued to be friends after that. We both grew up in wealthy families so we sort of bonded over the hardships that came with overbearing, over-expectant parents and the warmth we received more from our nannies than our mothers. I was actually in her wedding.” 

“I didn’t know Cheryl was married.” 

“She was for about eight months and then her ex-wife took her to the cleaners. Josie was never a great influence on Cheryl, but my friend was happy so I never said anything. There were times, after, where I wish I had. The divorce was pretty nasty.” 

“So what happened?” 

“Josie cheated.” And the irony wasn’t lost on Veronica. 

“Ah, yes. I can see how that would put a crimp in things.” 

“Cheryl took it pretty hard.” She was silent for a second before she continued. “Do you think Toni will hurt her?” 

He shrugged casually. “I don’t know. I don’t really get involved other people’s love lives. I know I don’t want people involved in mine.” 

She tried to hide the blush. “I just get worried about her sometimes. Cher is in that big house by herself. I know she’s fully capable of taking care of herself, but I know she gets lonely. I think she honestly hired me at the Wyrm not just because I wanted to dance and could do it well, but because she needed an excuse to get a friend here in Riverdale with her. She bought the Wyrm on a whim. I’m really glad it’s paid off for her.” 

“There’s some thanks to you,” he included, reaching over to run a finger along the curve of her hip. “Does she know where you are right now?” 

Veronica sighed. “No, not really. I told her I was going back to Manhattan tonight, but she’ll want to know where I really am when she sees my car still in the parking lot. I’ll have to come clean tomorrow morning.” 

He pursed his lips slowly. “Why did you lie?” 

She considered her answer. “She thinks this is bad news – this thing between us. She thinks it’s only going to screw with my head.” 

The finger gliding across her hip froze. “Is that what you think too?” 

Veronica shrugged. “I don’t really know yet.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Are you going to screw with my head?” 

He frowned. “It’s not normally something I set out to do. But I’ll be honest with you – I’m not a ‘wine and dine’ kind of guy. I don’t really do romance or relationships, really.” 

She nodded and looked down at the sheets, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment she felt. “That’s not entirely surprising.” 

“But I mean it when I say the last thing I want to do is hurt you, Veronica.” 

Her eyes floated up to meet his and the emotion he saw in her rich milk chocolate brown both startled and aroused him. It was true – Sweet Pea wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, but he had never felt this much this soon for someone. This passion – it was explosive. He admittedly had a hot head and a temper, but he normally didn’t go half-cocked like he did when she was around, taunting him with her wit or with her relationships with men at the Wyrm. When she was near, all logic was thrown out the window. 

He leaned in to kiss her, pulling her hips inward toward him with his fingers. The kiss was gentle, soft and slow and smoldering like a fire being stoked. The moment quickly transitioned from romantic to sexual, though, as his lips began to travel down the length of her chest, pausing before each breast with the addition of a couple of soft licks. 

Being this close to her, this naked, had his nerves backing up into a corner. He could feel his stomach start to take flight, and he had to do everything possible to keep himself grounded. What began as a simple suggestion for a tangle in the sheets was quickly turning into something more serious, his emotions beginning to stir somewhere within him. How the Hell was he supposed to be around her, knowing she was in a serious relationship, and harbor anything more than lust for her? 

He had to break the tension he felt in his heart and his head, choosing to prop the lust up to where it overwhelmed any sort of feelings he was starting to develop. 

_Good idea, dumbass,_ his heart told him. _There’s no way that plan could fail._

His lips traveled down to her navel, his tongue dipping into that small divot and lapping at a bead of sweat that had formed there. He pressed another series of gentle kisses toward the junction between her thigh and her torso, his tongue running flat along the length, and he could hear her begin to purr. 

“Are you seriously already in the mood again?” 

He grinned in response to her words, his fingers crawling along her other thigh teasingly. “I didn’t get a chance to taste you.” 

He heard her soft sigh when his fingertips finally met her core, already wet again and aroused. He curled the top knuckle of one finger into her, gathering some of the moisture on the tip, and visibly lifted his head so she could see him bring the finger to his mouth. 

He licked his bottom lip after sampling her, his eyes growing hot as he watched her begin to pant with anticipation, her breasts heaving slightly. His head fell back to where she was aching, his nose nudging the top of her center softly to tease. When she let out a whimper into the night, he moved forward and pressed his lips to her soft outer lips. 

She moaned low and deep, the vibration causing her nipples to perk up with arousal. His tongue dipped out to trace the outline of her lips, gathering the bit of moisture that resided there. Her back arched slowly, the feel of his mouth on her boosting her desire up to new levels. 

His hands slid beneath her thighs and gripped her just beneath her ass cheeks, smoothing little circles with his thumbs into the muscle. His mouth was torturous, his tongue still on the outskirts of her pussy, teasing her slowly. Without warning, he lifted her legs up, bringing them in tight and together, her ankles clanging against one another. 

She leaned forward to see what he was doing, but her head fell back when she felt his tongue finally dip past her entrance, darting into her long and slow, his hands still gripping her thighs together as he hoisted them above him. 

“You’re so tight this way, baby.” He lapped at her again, his tongue now flat like a paddle. “You taste amazing.” 

One of her hands came up and began to fondle her breast, tugging at her nipple softly in response to his gentle licking and lapping. 

“You look so fucking sexy when you touch yourself.” 

Her eyes flew to him and she could see he was watching her through a tiny sliver between her thighs. She bit her bottom lip teasingly and shot him a wink. He groaned into her, his mouth now latched directly to her pussy, and she sharply inhaled at the vibration. 

His tongue dug deeper into her, penetrating her entrance with the rounded tip of his tongue, rolling it in and out of her. She was so wet, he could almost drink her in, her delectable tang mixed with her fragment and pungent aroma overwhelming his senses in the best way. Seeing her squirm, pinching her pebbled peaks, and hearing her whimper his name was true magic. 

He continued to eat her out, her legs becoming fatigued from being elevated for so long as he took his time. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, the drive of his tongue and the suction of his lips on her folds making her heart race. 

His hands released their grip before they moved toward her inner thighs, splitting them apart in a perfect V. He spread her as far as her body would allow, opening her cunt to him like a blossoming flower, and he suckled deeper, his tongue and mouth traveling north to her clit where he sucked the throbbing nub of flesh. 

“Oh God,” she moaned, her pitch lowering as she felt her toes begin to tingle. He dove deeper, feasting on her like she was the best and last thing he’d ever eat, and her back arched off of the bed, her nerves firing from every appendage. Climax ripped through her mercilessly, his name flying off of her tongue without warning, filling the space around them with her moans and whimpers. 

He stayed below, lapping at her orgasm like a treat. He didn’t come up for air for another two minutes, just enough time for her to slowly catch her breath. When he rose on all fours and began crawling back toward her, she thought he had never looked sexier. He stopped to lean over her and kiss her, transferring some of her taste into her mouth with the bit lingering on his tongue and lips. 

When they broke apart, she licked her lips. “You’re right – I do taste good.” 

He growled and folded toward the bed, pressing his ear to her chest, her hand coming up to stroke his hair softly. “You’re going to kill me, Veronica.” 

She chuckled softly and soon the sleepy sounds of his deep breathing lured her into her own hazy slumber. 

///////

When Veronica awoke just after seven in the morning, she could feel Sweet Pea’s body pressed beside her chest, where he had slid somewhere overnight. His arm was slung over her stomach, his face pressed just beneath her breast, his mouth open slightly as he breathed. His black hair was a tangled mess, but God he looked gorgeous. 

She could feel the firm fleshy tip of his erect dick pressing into the side of her thigh and she had to bite back a grin, loving that even in sleep she aroused him. 

She tried to wiggle free from him slightly, not wanting to press too hard against him, but when she tried to move she felt the hand on her stomach hold her in place. 

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” he mumbled against her skin and she laughed silently. 

“Someone is more awake than I thought.” 

“It’s hard to sleep when I’m lying next to you like this. My dick won’t seem to calm down.” 

“That’s no way for it to behave.” 

“Mmm, I didn’t think you would mind.” 

She brought a hand up to card the strands of his hair softly, raking her nails gently across his scalp. “I don’t. At this point, I don’t expect any part of you to behave honestly.” 

He replied by nipping at the skin beneath her breast, tickling her with the edge of his teeth. She squirmed beneath him and laughed, his arm around her tickling her other side. 

“Pea!” she shouted in between laughs, and just when she was finally able to catch her breath when he stopped his assault, she found her body turned on its side, her back flush to his chest. She felt him lift up her right leg, hinging at the hip, knee in the air, as he slipped his hard cock inside her. 

She pressed her face into the sheets, moaning into the fabric as he thrust into her over and over, creating that perfect recipe of slow and heavy for a great Sunday morning fuck. He grabbed the top of her right hip and pushed her further back into him, his dick digging deeper inside as their hips rolled together in synchronicity. 

The inside of her pussy felt warm and cushiony like a pillow for his aching hard cock. He had fallen asleep over her the night before, worn out and exhausted from their long and eventful evening, but kept waking up throughout the dawn, his body hungry for her. There were more than a few occasions where he considered rolling on top of her and slipping inside her, waking her up to fuck only to put her back to bed with a bone-crippling orgasm, but watching her breathe slow into the silver blue of the twilight that shadowed the motel room stopped him every time. 

She had looked so angelic and peaceful, enough that it took his breath away. How could he disturb something so calm and collected? He had to laugh at how appropriate the thought was to their entire situation. She had been living in the status quo for Lord knows how long, chained to a life she found familiar and easy, and he had stomped in with his combat boots and shaken her up, his arrogance and feral temper muddying up her perfect privileged life. For that, he couldn’t help but feel both shameful and proud. While he didn’t want to mess up her life, he recognized she could do with a little shaking right now. 

He leaned in and planted kisses along the expanse of her neck and on the space just below her ear, trailing his tongue below her hairline where he knew she’d feel sensitive. They moved together in the tousled sheets, grinding while his hand kneaded the flesh around her hip and ass. The angle in which he thrust was different than any other they had shared the night before, the feeling of her clenching on him this way overwhelmingly sublime. 

“I love taking you this way, Veronica,” he whispered into her ear. 

He kept thrusting, their bodies bathed in the warm morning light from the motel window, the shutters closed just enough for privacy. 

“It feels so good, but I want to see you…” she muttered, her request barely audible as she pressed her mouth into the sheets. 

He kissed her neck again and slid out of her. She whined at the empty feeling, but she was quickly silenced when he flipped her on her back and pressed his lips to hers. Their tongues touched and tangled, his hand guiding his cock back inside her where they resumed their lazy fucking. 

When their mouths broke apart, he looked down into her brown eyes and she smiled. 

“There – that’s better.” 

_Fuck,_ he thought, and he knew his heart was in deeper than he ever wanted to be. 

He quickly changed course, leaning back to settle on his knees as he grasped both of her ankles, spreading her legs wide and fucking her like mad. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes were shut, her head thrown back as a scream escaped her lips. 

Everything about the way she looked was intoxicating, drawing him in more when all he wanted was to emotionally pull away. 

He thrust into her harder and harder, growing increasingly frustrated with the way his feelings were beginning to blossom right there as he watched her come undone beneath him. 

“Oh Jesus,” she screamed. “You’re so fucking deep, Sweet Pea.” 

When he looked down at where they were joined, his cock buried completely inside her, his balls slapping the space between her pussy and ass cheeks, his eyes rolled in the back of his head before closing, and he shot his load deep inside her, accompanied by the intense quivering of her walls as she fell apart, screaming his name over and over. 

He collapsed over her, catching himself just before he crashed into her, sweat dripping from both of their bodies from the climbing morning heat. 

“Holy shit…” Veronica whispered. 

“Yeah,” Sweet Pea whispered in response. 

They lay there for another minute before the piercing tone of Sweet Pea’s cell phone went off, echoing around the space of the motel room. 

Sweet Pea groaned and slid out of her, and instantly she felt empty, as if already he had made a home down there for himself inside her. He rolled off of her and threw himself from the bed, landing on his feet as he stalked over to his discarded jeans. He reached into the pocket and pulled the phone out, hitting the “Accept” button before answering. 

“What?” he growled dramatically into the phone. 

Veronica slithered up to the head of the bed, taking the sheet with her to partially cover her body. She watched as he paced around the room, digging into one of the packs of cigarettes on his dresser before pulling one out to light. 

In the light of day, she didn’t realize how many tattoos decorated his skin. Of course, there was the Serpent on his neck with the Southside MC logo framing it from top to bottom, but there were other, more interesting pieces of art littered across his body. 

On his left bicep was the standard seal for the U.S. Marines, the eagle, globe, and anchor design with the words “Semper Fidelis” on a banner enclosed in the eagle’s beak. This tattoo didn’t surprise her – it was clear his time in the military had been influential on him. Lower down on his arm were words in Latin, the inscription “alias grave nihil,” the English translation “nothing is heavy to those who have wings,” and she thought it was a curious tattoo for him to have in such a visible place. 

Below his pecs was a black banner of tribal art, spanning across his abdomen from the lower side of one ribcage to the next. When he turned, there was the precarious design of a wolf with its jaws wide, nearly unhinged, chasing a bare skull as the full moon rose above them both, and this tattoo she could almost decipher for herself – Sweet Pea was a lone wolf in spirit, though what he was chasing she couldn’t tell. 

The tattoo she appreciated most, though, was the sprig of sweet peas that traveled up his side along his ribs, an oddly feminine piece of art that she wasn’t expecting. It reminded her that beneath his hardened biker exterior, there was still that part of him that was soft and kind. 

Across the room from her, padding along the old faded green carpet of the bedroom, he was continuing in his heated conversation with Toni, puffing from his cigarette to highlight the annoyance he was feeling and showing. He ceremoniously crushed the cigarette into the side table ashtray and continued pacing. 

Veronica watched his muscles flex and relax as he moved, drawn to the sinewy nature of his back and biceps, rippled with athletic detail. His tight chest led to a subtly defined six set of abs, though he wasn’t completely ripped, which Veronica appreciated. She was so used to the kind of people who were so determined to look their aesthetically best and with Sweet Pea, she could tell he simply didn’t give a shit. 

His navel led to a short patch of black curly hair, his happy trail that led to the incredible appendage she had grown very familiar with, its appearance soft and limp now but still impressively sized. When he turned, she got an amazing glimpse of his ass, curved in on the sides with definition, and she bit her bottom lip, imagining digging her nails into that firm bed of flesh and muscle. 

When he pivoted back around, he caught her watching him and he smirked. He ran his hand through his unruly mess of hair and she felt her heart swoon. 

“Fine, see you there in twenty.” He clicked the phone off and threw it onto the bed, crossing to the bed to lean in and kiss her, releasing her lips with a hearty smack. 

“Well, I was going to say we could stop by Pop’s for a proper post-coital breakfast, but I’ve got some business to attend to. You want me to take you by your car or Cheryl’s first?” 

“My car first, please,” she replied, disappointed that their time was cut short, knowing she’d have to go to Cheryl’s and explain herself. She wasn’t ready for their lust bubble to be popped quite yet. 

They both dressed quickly and exited his motel room. As he was locking the door, Veronica made eye contact with his neighbor, who was coming out to dispose of the trash. When they looked at each other, he shook his head and shot her a dirty glare. She bit back a laugh, realizing they had probably kept him up all night with their orchestral fucking. 

As they rode through the harsh light of day through the Southside, the soundtrack of Trapt’s “Waiting” blaring from the speakers of a car in the next lane, Veronica took a moment to reflect on the past eight hours. 

Being with Sweet Pea had been, for lack of a more powerful word, incredible. She had felt things with him she hadn’t expected, most of them physical, but there was a part of her that was yearning for something beyond lust. She couldn’t put her finger on it quite yet, the feelings still fresh and young like spring, but they were there nonetheless, and she knew soon enough she wouldn’t be able to deny them. 

As they rounded the corner of the main street, gliding into the desolate lot of the Whyte Wyrm, she clutched onto him tighter. There was a part of her that knew she should feel guilty. She had slept with another man. She had cheated on Nick, over and over and over again last night and this morning. 

When she dismounted from the bike, earning a hard kiss from Sweet Pea when she returned his helmet, she realized she didn’t give a damn. 

///////

It had nearly escaped Veronica’s mind that Cheryl had planned an “end of summer backyard bash” to celebrate the Wyrm’s first seasonal success, driving into Riverdale two weekends later with a suitcase full of luggage for a weekend of dancing and costume changes. 

When she pulled up to Cheryl’s cottage late that Friday afternoon, she was surprised to find two large transport trucks parked along the main room, three guys coming out of one truck unloading what appeared to be tropical party supplies and décor. She watched as they lifted a piece of five metal palm tree pieces, welded together on a single base, and hoisted it in the direction of the back fence. 

She pushed her way through Cheryl’s front door and called out for her friend, removing her sunglasses as she set her suitcase down by the door. There was a variety of noise going on throughout the house – the sounds of men grunting coming from the backyard, the whizzing of a drill somewhere in a near vicinity, and the radio blasting Bruno Mars’s latest sensual chart-topper “Versace on the Floor.” 

Figuring Cheryl wouldn’t have heard her name through all of the hub-bub, she decided to venture through the living room and into the kitchen, pausing to glance through the dining room window at the scene outdoors. 

The men were setting down the tree piece, dusting their hands off as they trekked back toward the front yard, while another two men were busy setting up rows of tables and chairs, Cheryl hot on their heels as she followed behind with a stack of beach-themed tablecloths, securing them to the table with a roll of what appeared to be scotch tape. 

Veronica stepped through the kitchen and out the back door, landing on the patio, turning in 180 degrees to survey the rest of the yard. The pool had recently been cleaned, any debris from the nearby trees sifted out. There was a long table with speakers set up around it, possibly a DJ booth. Beside it was a tiki-style counter where a woman, who she assumed was the mixologist, was unpacking boxes of liquor and setting them up along a table behind the bar. 

Veronica stepped onto the grass and crossed to the table where Cheryl was trying to rip off a piece of tape with her perfectly manicured red-painted nails. 

“Cher, what’s going on?” 

Cheryl’s eyes snapped up at the sound of Veronica’s voice, her face practically half-covered in a large pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. 

“V! I’m so glad you’re here early. I need you to make a few phone calls for me while I finish setting up.” 

Veronica gestured to the yard. “What is all of this?” 

Cheryl looked at her, dumbfounded. “You don’t remember? I shut the club down for tonight for the end-of-summer celebration. Big pool party, lots of booze and dancing – the whole shebang. Remember?” 

“Oh shit, that’s right. I completely spaced.” 

Cheryl looked her up and down, pursing her lips slowly. “Perhaps you’ve been a bit distracted.” 

Veronica met her eyes with a known stare. It was nothing short of the truth. Ever since she and Sweet Pea finally broke bread, so to speak, in his motel bed, her mind had been all over the place. They hadn’t had sex since then, but there had been several small teases and taunts in their collective workplace of the Whyte Wyrm. It was beginning to drive Veronica insane, knowing what he was capable of doing to her body while keeping his distance. She wasn’t sure if it was purposeful, confused by his continuing efforts to be near her at the club – brushing her hair from her face in conversation, whispering hot words of seduction in her ear – but nonetheless they had yet to truly touch and her body was pissed off. 

It was like a beast had awakened inside of her, drawn out by the image of him standing guard at the bar in his leather jacket, watching her dance. Even when she was home with Nick, she had found the courage to rebuke his advances, turning him down night after night for the mediocre sex he offered. 

Now that she had tasted real freedom, true bliss, there was no going back. 

The morning after they had separated in the parking lot of the Wyrm, Veronica knew she faced a potential firing squad at Cheryl’s, the angry confrontation stemming from her lie about going home to Manhattan coupled with the rash decision she made to sleep with Sweet Pea inevitable. When she rolled up in front of Cheryl’s house and walked inside, she found she had been correct. 

What was surprising, however, was Cheryl’s supreme sense of worry overshadowing the disapproval she felt for Veronica’s actions, and that made everything so much worse. Her friend explained how she felt Veronica was being too impulsive, too unlike her normal self, but all Veronica could think was _isn’t that the point?_

Being with Sweet Pea had made her feel alive that night, practically wrapping her in a silk cocoon of climax before she burst through with new skin of gold and glow, revived after years of boring sex and a romantic relationship with a man who bored her. It was hard to think about giving up the wonder of that one night for the shame of realizing she had done something uncharacteristic. 

After a hot shower and an incredibly long nap, Veronica and Cheryl sat down to iron out the grim details of Veronica’s recent unhappiness and the unsure feelings she was beginning to develop for the Serpent, and together they came to an understanding. Veronica knew ultimately Cheryl’s biggest intention was to drive Veronica toward happiness, and if that came in the package form of a former Marine biker with a load of baggage, Cheryl knew she’d have to support that. 

It was still too early for those kinds of decisions, though, and Veronica reminded her of that. As of now, she was doing her best to enjoy the ride and see where it took her. 

However, after two weeks of no touching, Veronica was beginning to wonder if maybe Sweet Pea had lost interest in her company, and that made her feel incredibly sad, more so than she ever expected. 

“What exactly do you need me to do?” 

Cheryl pulled a piece of folded up paper from her back pocket, skimming the list written in black ink. 

“I need you to call these two numbers here – the first one is to check what time the caterers plan to get here, the second is the number to the Serpent’s HQ. I need you to ask if they can bring about twenty bags of ice when they show up.” 

Veronica felt her stomach take a hard dive. “The Serpents are coming?” 

Cheryl furrowed her brow in confusion. “Of course. They work with us, so they should get to participate in the celebrations. What’s wrong? I figured you would jump at the chance to talk to your boy toy?” 

Veronica rolled her eyes softly. “He’s not my boy toy, Cheryl, and we haven’t spoken in a week. I think that hardly considers us attached by association.” 

Cheryl pursed her lips again. “Think what you want, but I know what I see and so does everyone else. We’re not blind, you know?” She handed the list over to her. “Here, go make those calls, please. And you might want to do it inside. They’re making a fucking ruckus back here.” 

Cheryl turned to finish her table setting and Veronica knew she had been dismissed. She crossed back inside the house and retrieved her suitcase, wheeling it down the side hall into the nearest guest bedroom. She plopped onto the bed and looked down at the piece of paper still tucked in her hand. She reached for her cell phone out of her back pocket and dialed the digits for the first number. 

After confirming the caterer’s ETA of 7 pm, Veronica moved on to the next phone call, feeling her nerves take flight as she dialed the number for the Serpents. Much to her disappointment, Fangs answered. 

“Yo, who the fuck is this?” 

“Very classy, Fangs. This is Veronica from the Wyrm.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to clarify. I know who you are. I can picture you right now…” He made a soft moaning noise, but she knew he was only trying to tease her. “You call for a good time?” 

“Nice try, Fangs, but I’m calling for business purposes. Cheryl wants you guys to bring about twenty bags of ice to the party tonight. Think that’s too much for you to handle?” 

“Nothing’s too much for me to handle, baby. Maybe tonight at the party you’ll see.” 

His comment was cut short when he called out to someone she assumed was behind him. When he muttered the name “Pea,” she felt her stomach drop. 

“It’s Veronica – want to talk to her?” 

Veronica waited with bated breath, secretly hoping Sweet Pea would take the receiver from Fangs so she could hear the deep bass of his incredibly sexy voice. Instead, when Fangs responded with a deflated “Oh okay,” she felt a lump begin to form in her throat. 

“Sorry Veronica, what were you saying?” 

She took a deep breath and tried to clear the lump. “Cheryl wants the Serpents to bring twenty bags of ice tonight. Make sure to write it down. She’s incredibly meticulous and I’m sure we all want to have a good time tonight.” 

“Got it. Twenty bags of ice,” he repeated and she appreciated he had taken her advice seriously, hearing the click of a pen when he was done. 

“Thanks, Fangs. I’ll see you all in a little bit.” 

“Bye beautiful,” and she heard the phone click. 

Veronica settled back on the bed and relaxed into the mattress. It would be so easy to just tuck herself back in that bedroom all night, escape the madness of the party and avoid any potential run-ins with Sweet Pea who obviously had no interest in speaking with her. 

She shook her head, knowing it would do no good – Cheryl would never allow her to skip out on this celebration, especially after all of the work that went into making it happen. She crossed to her suitcase and searched for a bathing suit, a provision she made sure to pack on every weekend trip to Cheryl’s as she often spent the day hours soaking up the sun’s rays by the pool. 

She dug through the layers of clothes and costumes, her hands pulling back while clutching onto the top belonging to a tiger-striped bikini that she could only as describe as _skimpy._

Suddenly, Veronica was ready for the festivities, scrambling to change with one goal on her mind – _burn him alive._

///////

It was just after eight when Veronica heard the doorbell ring, the signal of the latest guests to arrive at the party. In her hand, she held her elixir for the night, a hefty dose of Malibu coconut rum disguised in the dark brown tone of an ice-cold Coca-Cola, and she switched it to her left in order to open the door for the party-goers. 

On the other side of the door stood the motley crew of Southside Serpents, Toni at the forefront flanked by Fangs to her right and a very tall Sweet Pea behind her. When she threw back the door for them to enter, Fangs held up a bag of ice with a proud toothy grin and said, “We come bearing ice!” 

She grinned at him and shook her head. “I hope that’s not the only bag you’ve brought, otherwise you’ll never make it out of here alive. Cheryl’s already pissed because the caterer brought the wrong kind of pork sliders.” 

Toni stepped forward to cross the threshold into the house. “We’ve got more men behind us bringing the bags around to the back.” 

Veronica nodded in response and stood back for them to enter. As Sweet Pea approached to pass, his eyes fell to her bikini-clad body, taking in the supple curves of her breasts barely covered by the animal print fabric. When his eyes swept up to meet hers, his body dangerously close enough to brush against her as he entered the house, he smirked in greeting. 

He leaned down to whisper in her ear and it nearly disarmed her. “Nice tits, Veronica.” 

In that moment, she wanted to shove him out of the door and slam it back in his face. His audacity was infuriating. The fact that he could be so open about her body after all of the days of silence on his part was pissing her off, her blood beginning to boil. 

Trying to keep the upper hand, she shut the door tightly behind him and swiftly picked up the pace of her feet, falling in line in front of him to give him a view of her ass stuffed in the teeny bikini bottoms. She swayed, perhaps a bit more obvious than initially intended, but she stopped caring about the details, wanting to scorch his ass as heatedly as possible. 

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the defined curves of her ass cheeks, covered by the thin scrap of fabric she considered a bathing suit. He carried a bag of ice over his groin, hoping to disguise his erection and possibly bring it down with the cooling freeze of the bag’s contents. 

It had been too long since they had touched and that had partially been his fault, his arrogance thinking he could torture her for fun in order to get her worked up for more. In truth, the only person worked up was him, and he cursed himself every night, returning home to an empty motel that smelled entirely of her. She had only been there for one night, but everything from the air he breathed to the stitching of his sheets had soaked in her scent, and she haunted him everywhere he went in the space he considered private. 

Even lying in bed at night proved fruitless, sleep evading him night after night as he thought about the insane way it felt to be wrapped up in her sinfully tantalizing body. The lack of sleep only fueled his irritation, choosing to take it out on her instead by refusing to give in to every seductive glance she shot his way when she danced. 

Again, he was the only one paying the price it seemed, her attitude completely unfazed in the days they spent together. There had been a few moments of intense flirting where he thought he might break, but he wanted to extend the teasing as long as he could, a sadistic form of foreplay that he hoped would only make their next coupling that much more intense. 

Watching her saunter back and forth now across Cheryl’s lawn in her bikini, her flirty laughter exchanged from one male guest to the next, his arousal was quickly turning spiteful and he was feeling more pissed than turned on. 

Had he made the wrong move? It was clear her attention was nowhere close to being on him, her lashes fluttering playfully in the direction of whatever male she was speaking to at the moment, and he wanted nothing more than to haul her off to some dark corner of the lawn and fuck her senseless. 

_What’s with the possessiveness?_ He asked himself. He wasn’t normally one for jealousy, his relationships never lasting longer than a few months apiece with girls he knew were completely loyal to him. Never had he felt such intense possession over someone he barely knew in the emotional sense, their connection at that point ninety-five percent carnal. 

Or did he know her better than he thought? Watching her eyes briefly flicker to his, that playful smirk appearing on her lips as she bit her lower lip, he realized maybe they were more alike than he initially considered. 

She was playing him just like he was playing her. 

He was sick of playing games. By the end of the night, he was going to have her over and over again. 

In the meantime, he distracted himself with a plate of food, all beach and tropical themed with pineapple skewers, coconut shrimp, and some odd pork dish that Sweet Pea recognized as the incorrect order provided by the caterer. He settled back on one of the tables and ate away, barely registering the taste as his eyes continued to survey Veronica. When she tipped back the rest of her alcoholic cocktail and stepped into the cool blue water of the pool, her bathing suit clinging to her perky, taut nipples, he practically shoveled the food into his mouth. 

Fangs slid onto the other side of the bench in front of him, his own plate of food settled down on the table. He watched Sweet Pea’s intense gaze as it wandered over Veronica’s body and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Dude, you need to calm down. You’re starting to freak people out.” 

It took Sweet Pea a second for his words to snap him out of his focus on Veronica. He turned to address Fangs with a confused look on his face. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’re gawking at Veronica like a Goddamn hawk looking for food. You need to chill. No chick is going to fuck you if you look like you’re about to devour them.” 

Sweet Pea smirked, tipping his Sprite in his red plastic cup up toward his lips for a drink. “Too late.” 

Fangs nearly spilled the beans from his spoon, his jaw opening so wide it nearly unhinged. “Are you fucking serious, dude? You’ve had that?” 

“ _That_ is a woman with a name, and I’d say we took a bite out of each other.” He sighed, setting his glass down in a rare moment of vulnerability. “She’s all I fucking think about.” 

Fangs shook his head slowly, the words registering in his ears. “I get that. If I were with Veronica, she’d probably have me all fucked up too. She’s a whole lot of woman, and I’m not just talking about her amazing body. She’s got a sharp mind, too.” 

Sweet Pea shot him a sardonic glance. “And how do you know this?” 

Fangs shrugged, shoveling beans into his mouth. “We talk from time to time. You’re not the only guy she gives attention to, though it would appear that’s what you want.” 

Sweet Pea considered his words for a moment. “Not necessarily. I understand the nature of her job. And it’s not like we’re together or anything serious like that. I just can’t help but be drawn to her, and watching her play around like she’s been doing this whole night is starting to really piss me off.” 

“Then why don’t you say something to her?” 

Sweet Pea shot him a dry look. “Right.” 

“Nah, man – I’m serious. Chicks love it when you talk to them.” 

“Like you suddenly know how to talk to women.” 

“You don’t see me sitting here getting my dick in a twist trying to tell some girl who obvious digs me that I dig her too.” 

Sweet Pea considered a rebuttal, but Fangs was right. This game of cat and mouse was growing tired. 

///////

Hours later, after a good chunk of the guest list had left, the remaining stuck behind stumbling indoors for a bonafide house party, Veronica found herself wadding in the steaming waters of Cheryl’s hot tub, accompanied by the host and Toni, along with a Serpent she recognized as Blaze and, much to her excitement, Sweet Pea. 

The content of both of their drinks making them a bit more open with their flirtation, Cheryl and Toni cuddled in one corner of the hot tub, Toni’s fingers strumming along the side of Cheryl’s arm as she slung it over her to bring her closer. They were whispering a few choice words to each other, the content enough to bring a flush to Cheryl’s cheeks not caused by the hot temperature of the water. 

Veronica, on the other hand, had fallen prey to the awkward conversation with Blaze about the difference between burlesque and strip clubs, Blaze’s opinions obviously biased based on the types of service he preferred. When he leaned back to grab his plastic cup from the edge of the hot tub, Veronica shot Cheryl a pointed look, and after a few more whisperings between the redhead and her companion, Toni instructed Blaze to go inside and take inventory on all of the passed out Serpents in the house. 

Once he departed, Cheryl and Toni quickly made their exit, tossing some excuse of feeling overheated from the water, leaving Veronica and Sweet Pea all alone. 

They sat across from each other, the steam rolling off the surface of the hot tub in waves, creating an eerie backdrop to the palpable silence around them. She brought her cup to her lips and took another sip, her level of intoxication already in dangerous territory when she considered the looseness of her tongue. 

He sunk lower in the hot tub, his body completely covered save for his face. 

“Have fun tonight, Veronica?” 

She brought the cup back down and surveyed him from across the water. The rivets of water that slowly dripped down his face, escaping the mess of stark black hair that clung to him in oddly attractive patterns, mirrored the arousal she felt watching him, the liquid from her sex noticeable despite her submergence. 

“I had a blast. Thank you for asking.” 

“It looked like you were having a good time. Make a lot of friends?” 

She sent him a pointed stare. “What does that mean?” 

He shrugged, his shoulders breaking the surface of the water. “I’m just asking if you made a lot of friends. You looked awfully friendly tonight.” 

She quirked her eyebrow, feeling bold. “You could say I met a lot of potential new _friends_ tonight. Especially since the last friend I made didn’t seem to find me interesting enough to call me.” 

“Maybe that friend felt you lost interest in him. I mean, I haven’t exactly seen you make a lot of calls lately.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Cut the shit, Sweet Pea. I haven’t called you because you haven’t called me, and all of this flirting you’ve been doing at the bar while keeping your hands off is confusing the Hell out of me.” 

His eyebrows lifted in response. “Oh really? You’re confused? How do you expect me to feel, watching you dance around practically naked on stage, knowing what I know is underneath those sparkly costumes you wear? And then you walk around the club, talking to every man there but me.” 

“Well, if you’ve been so pent up about it, why haven’t you done or said anything? If you want me so Goddamn bad, why don’t you tell me?” 

He rose from the water, the steam and droplets of water rolling off of his heated skin as he broke the surface. He slowly glided across the water toward her, his arms extended out around him, fingers skimming the edge of the water. He stopped a foot away from her and reached over to take her cup, setting it behind her head calmly. 

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “because that would be too easy, and baby – nothing about this is simple.” 

She sighed, both in irritation and in delight at the feel of his breath on her ear. “Why are you making this so complicated? We’ve already fucked. If we want to do it again, we should be able to without some awkward conversation or strange distance.” 

He leaned back to face her, his words only barely more audible than a whisper, “So how do I know if you want to fuck me again?” 

She licked her bottom lip and reveled in the way his eyes darted directly to it, their shade turning darker with lust. “You just have to ask.” 

He positioned his body directly over her, planting his hands along the edge of the hot tub, trapping her in. 

“Veronica, do you want to fuck?” 

She felt enough words had been spoken, choosing instead to lean forward in the water and cup his face with her wet hands as she pressed a warm kiss against his lips, her tongue immediately darting inward to stroke his. She could hear his soft moan, feel his tongue dance with hers as his body moved in closer. 

She heard his hand dip beneath the water before she felt it skim the edge of her bikini bottoms, slipping a finger inside her center, finding it warmer and slicker than the water that surrounded them. 

“God, you’re scorching, Veronica.” 

Her eyes closed slowly as she felt him push his finger in and out of her, the gentle ripple of the water the only obvious sign of any inappropriate play to the suspecting eye. Her head fell back, softly landing against the tiled edge of the hot tub, leaving room for him to nibble and lick her skin. His lips followed her unspoken command, slipping away from her mouth to find the column of her neck, the outline of her collarbone. 

His finger continued to pump in and out of her, his dick becoming more and more erect inside his loose-fitting swim bottoms. He lifted his head to watch her as she rode him beneath the water, her hips rolling with the rhythm of his finger. Her nipples were standing at attention, poking through the thin fabric of her top, and they tempted him to the point where he tipped his head down and sucked her through the top, tasting the odd flavor of the chlorine with the creaminess of her skin. 

“I think we’ve waited long enough, Pea.” He brought his head up to look at her, finding her eyes set and hazy. “I want you inside me now.” 

He lifted his eyebrow. “So demanding tonight.” 

“Well – you’ve done a really good job of pissing me off with all of your teasing.” She bit her lower lip slowly, soothing it with her tongue. “I’m tired of waiting.” 

He had to admit that her commanding tone was turning him on even more, his cock practically begging him for release. He slipped his finger out of her, moving under the water to his own swim shorts where he pulled himself out from the top. 

“Come here,” he growled, reaching for her hips and pulling her forward to where she dangled from the cement hot tub bench. Beneath the heated surface of the water, he pulled down her bikini bottoms and brought his tip to her entrance, teasing her with slow strokes until her head was rolling back, her mouth open in a tiny “O” highlighted with a series of small moans. 

They moved together, her hips coming forward as he slipped inside her. Once he began his thrusting, his hands broke the surface to brace his arms on either side of her, his fingers gripping the edge as he moved forward and back. Her hands slid beneath the water and pushed his swim shorts down past his ass so she could grip his cheeks with her fingers, her nails causing a burn that mixed with the heat of the water. 

“That better?” he whispered above her as he thrust. 

“That’s what I’ve been waiting for…” she mumbled, her eyes closing as she felt him crash into her like a tidal wave, over and over and over again. 

His head curved to lean down and place a series of nibbles along the bottom of her jawline, eliciting another round of groans from her perfect, rounded lips. 

How could he have forgotten how fantastic she felt sheathing him like this? How could he have possibly denied himself this ecstasy, let his pride get in the way of true carnal bliss buried between the folds of her incredible pussy? 

He had been a fool, keeping this fantastic fuck from both of them, the feel of her tight center gripping him like she was holding on for dear life. He growled in her ear, his lips hovering above her jaw as he fought to hold back control. It would be so easy to come inside her in that moment, but he knew he owed her an orgasm. 

Or twenty. It had been a long two weeks. 

He felt her detach her claws from his ass, replaced by the vicelike grip of her hips as they wrapped around him, pulling him in closer into her as he pumped back and forth, his arms growing fatigued from holding his weight up against the tiled edge. The feeling of being inside her was enough to erase the pain of his position, not caring if he bled from the cement ledge digging into his skin. He needed them both to come first. 

As if sensing his discomfort, Veronica looked up at him and whispered for him to sit back. He was happy to oblige, especially when he had the immense privilege of watching her straddle him in the water, sliding down slowly on his well-erect cock as her tits bounced in front of his leering eyes. 

“That feels fantastic, Veronica,” he encouraged, lost in the sight of her riding him like she was. The two breasts equal to his view were too tempting to not honor, turning his attention to the left one as his hand came up to pluck it from its tiger-striped confines. 

The cool summer air met the warm skin of her nipple, immediately puckering it for him. _How convenient,_ he thought as his mouth moved down to take it in between his lips, his tongue darting out to lap at the tip. 

Her arms slipped around to cross behind his neck, balancing herself as she continued to gyrate up and down, the feeling of his cock deep inside her beyond all of the fantasies she had dreamt of those past two weeks. 

“You going to keep me waiting again, SP?” she whispered, her forearms behind his neck pushing his face further into her chest, practically holding him to her breast to suckle. 

She felt him release her nipple softly before responding, “Never fucking again, baby.” He put her nipple back in his mouth and resumed his sucking. 

“Good,” she mumbled, her head tipped back in pleasure as she felt him throbbing inside of her, the sensation so intense she could feel it over the already warm flow of the water and the pressure of the hot tub’s jet streams. 

It didn’t take long before she felt the familiar quivering of an orgasm appear in the form of tingling toes and fluttering in between her legs. She continued to rise up and down on top of him, getting ready to ride out what she suspected was going to be a really intense hike into devastatingly good climax. 

Sweet Pea’s lips detached from her nipple and he leaned back, knowing she was near, wanting to watch her fall apart as she rode him. 

“That’s it, baby. Give it all to me. Come. Come,” he pushed, his elbows coming back to rest on the tile of the hot tub ledge. He thought about gripping her hips tight and fucking her hard and fast, but watching her take the reins like this was too perfect for him to disturb, the power she exuded as she ran the show there in the hot tub hypnotizing. 

“I’m so close, Pea,” she whimpered, no longer caring how loud she was or how obvious it appeared that they were fucking in Cheryl’s hot tub. She needed to find closure, and she needed it now. 

“Yes,” he hissed, feeling his own ending on the verge, the base of his balls beginning to clench. “Fucking come for me, baby.” 

Her head flew back as he felt her shatter apart over him, her lips releasing a low, grumbling groan as her pussy shivered and clenched down on him. 

His own guttural growl escaped his chest as his hands flew forward in reaction, gripping her hips as he thrust into her heavily, spilling himself deep inside, their fluids mixing with the water in the hot tub. 

She collapsed forward, resting her forehead on his shoulders. “Jesus,” she mouthed against his skin. 

“No shit,” he replied in agreeance. “Why the fuck did I say no to that pussy for so long?” 

She chuckled lightly, her head lifting so her eyes could meet his. “Worst mistake of your life.” 

He nodded. “Fucking right.” 

He winced when she stood, allowing him to plop out of her, caressed by the gentle rolling of the water around them. He tucked himself back into his swim shorts as she righted her bathing suit top, covering her breast again. She pivoted around in the water to search for the bottoms he had peeled off of her earlier. She found them floating near the other end of the hot tub and she reached over to grab them. 

Slipping them back on under the water wasn’t the most comfortable ordeal, but she supposed it had all been worth it, finally rewarded with the sensation of him screwing her again. 

They both exited the tub and Sweet Pea reached over to a table nearby with provided towels stacked for guests. He brought one to her as his other hand was busy scrubbing his hair dry with his own towel. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re very welcome,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I meant for the towel.” 

“That too.” 

They trekked back up to the house, surprised to find the party had pretty much died down during their time alone. Toni was rounding up a few of the passed out bikers with Fangs’s help, leaning them up and walking them back to the van that the Serpents brought, knowing they’d be drinking, parked next to Sweet Pea and Toni’s bikes. Sweet Pea stepped in to help, carrying the weight of another Serpent who was busy slurring some song that the DJ had played earlier. 

Veronica helped Cheryl to pack up a few leftover food items to place into the fridge, the two of them deciding to properly clean up the next morning. Veronica could tell Cheryl was still pretty tipsy and didn’t think it would be wise for them to involve household cleaning products in her state. Unfortunately, Veronica’s buzz had worn off, though it was due to some much-needed fucking, so it didn’t bother her in the slightest. 

When all of the Serpents were loaded into the van, Fangs soberly behind the wheel to drive them off, Sweet Pea crossed back into the house and approached Veronica, who was waiting to send him off. 

“That was one Hell of a party.” 

She nodded. “Sure was – though you should thank Cheryl for that. She really went all out.” 

“Yeah, but she didn’t provide the best part of the entertainment.” 

“Well, I am just _so thrilled_ I could leave you entertained.” 

“Oh yes, Veronica. You put on quite the show,” and she knew he was specifically referring to her riding him to climax. 

“Anything for a good time. Glad you finally got over your shit.” 

He shrugged. “Me too. I had an itch that really needed scratching.” 

Immediately, she bristled, feeling on edge. “Is this all this was to you tonight? Scratching a really irritating itch?” 

“I mean, I thought we both had urges we needed to attend to. It didn’t seem one-sided to me back there.” 

She stood gaping at him for a moment before she rolled her eyes and surged forward, placing her hands on his bare chest to shove him out of the open doorway. 

“You’re such a son of a bitch, do you know that, Sweet Pea? Just get the Hell out.” 

He stumbled back out the front door and over the welcome mat. “Woah, princess – chill. I think we both got what we wanted.” 

She huffed, a growl coming straight from her frustrated chest as she slammed the door in his face, her last visual of him of a bright white smile flashing across his lips. 

Why was he so damn infuriating? Veronica thought she could kick the wall, she was so pissed. After all of the build-up, that’s how he chose to end the night? Playing off what they were doing like some tawdry romp that needed to happen, and now that it was over they could just as easily go back to being how they were before? 

She quickly shut off the lights throughout the rest of the house, assuming the silence meant that Cheryl had already gone to bed, and she stomped down the hall into her bedroom, slamming the door dramatically. 

She flung off her wet bikini, choosing to hang it over a chair in the corner, before digging out an old t-shirt and pair of warm, dry panties. She slipped them on, not bothering to dry her hair, and flung herself under the covers, frustration building in every crevice of her body. 

///////

Forty-five minutes later, she sat in the dark, resting against the cool sheets of the guest bed with her hands behind her head. She should be exhausted, the finale of the party with Sweet Pea wearing her out momentarily in the hot tub, but after she pushed him out of the house and saw his wicked smile flash before the door slammed in his face, it only served to awaken her further. 

In the echo of Cheryl’s hallway, she could hear the soft moans coming from the direction of her friend’s bedroom, and she suspected a certain Serpent VP had stayed behind and was currently bringing her friend to what she counted was her third orgasm. 

Veronica felt flustered and frustrated, her hands flying from behind her hand to smash down on the comforter. How was she supposed to sleep when her friend was getting off and she wasn’t? She shouldn’t be so greedy, succumbing to an orgasm just an hour ago, but her sex drive was out of control. 

And she had no one to blame but Sweet Pea. 

She cursed him silently into the dark night of the bedroom, wishing he was there solely so she could kick his ass. Ever since they had fucked two weeks ago, she was lost to her thoughts when it came time to tuck herself into bed and try to drift off to sleep. All she could picture when she closed her eyes was the image of his head buried between her legs, his tongue drifting up for her to see, covered in the shimmering gloss of her arousal. 

And now, all she could see was his face tilted back in pleasure as she rode him in the hot tub, the rippling of the water creating a wave pool around them as they fucked together. She could feel his dick inside her now, the phantom sensation of his seven thick inches pushing into her over and over. 

A little relief seemed like a good idea, the possible solution to another restless night with little sleep, and she sent her fingers below the sheets, brushing past the elastic band of her panties to fondle her clit slowly. As she rubbed, she thought of Sweet Pea, imagining it was his tongue working her pussy like she was doing now, swirling her thumb tip over the nub in little circles. When she slid two fingers inside her aching wet sex, she pictured his cock sliding into her for the first time. 

She fantasized about his dark brown eyes, his jet-black hair, his firm flexed muscles, each detail driving her closer and closer to climax. 

She was nearing the edge when she heard a sharp rap on the window to the left of the bed. Her hand immediately flew out of her panties, initially terrified she had been caught before the horror turned into one of true fear, worried who was knocking behind the blinds currently closed. 

She considered ignoring the noise, pulling the covers close to her chin, and pray that the person on the other side went away, hoping it was a party-goer who forgot something and needed entrance into the house. After the third knock, she gathered up the courage to tiptoe out of bed and over to the window. 

She peered through the blinds to see Sweet Pea stepping back from the window, surveying the area around him like he was worried he’d be caught. 

Immediately, the butterflies in her stomach took flight and her sex began to ache in waves, realizing the thin barrier of glass and plastic kept her from the one man who could get her off like she wanted. She was still incredibly annoyed with him, but that didn’t stop her curiosity from taking over. 

She unlocked the window and rolled it up, leaning her head out a bit to speak. 

“What the Hell are you doing here, SP?” 

He reached up behind his head to scratch the back of his neck, suddenly feeling nervous. He had been pacing the roadway beside his bike for the past hour, chain smoking as he fought to decide what he wanted – an easy ride home and quick tumble into sleep or another night with Veronica Lodge. Seeing her seething at him when she slammed the door in his face immediately got him hard – anger looked good on her. 

He fought to control his urges, but she was everywhere in his mind and he wanted her more than anything. 

“Come on, just let me in, Veronica.” 

“And why should I?” she responded, and he could tell she was still pissed. 

“Because I, uh. Well, fuck – I didn’t mean what I said, okay? You’re not just an itch.” 

“Oh I’m not?” 

“No, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to get the fuck off this lawn and come inside. I realize it looks a bit suspect when a guy is standing outside of someone’s window at three in the morning. I’d really like to not get the cops called on my ass.” 

She pursed her lips in thought, her mouth slowing forming into a smirk. “Maybe I’d like to see you get hauled in.” 

“Trust me, Veronica – you do not want to see me get arrested.” 

She took her time considering his words, torturing him as he continued to look around the lawn, paranoid. Finally, she relented. 

“Okay. But I’m making you crawl through the window.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck. Fine.” 

She stepped back and allowed him to prop himself up onto the thin window ledge, one leg moving into the house at a time. He landed with both feet and carefully slid his torso in, mindful not to bump his head on the bottom of the window pane. When he turned to face her, taking in the sight of her in a long faded t-shirt that ended just above the knees, no pants, her hair still damp and looking like she had been tossing in her sleep, he couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward, cupping her face in his calloused hands, and kissed her hard. 

When they pulled away, her eyes glazed over slightly, she whimpered, “What was that for?” 

“My way of saying I took my joke too far.” He stroked a piece of her hair next to her face. “You’re not some one-time fuck, Veronica. I can’t stop wanting you.” 

Done fighting, she leaned in and captured his lips again, propelling them backward toward the foot of the bed with the force of her embrace. He stumbled but held his footing, keeping them both balanced and standing. 

His hands slipped from her face to come down and grip her breasts, both palms squeezing gently, almost like a lover’s caress. Their mouths continued to connect, pushing and pulling with the weight of their tongues and the heat of their spit. Her hands slid down to the hem of the shirt he had put on sometime after they departed, pulling it up to slip it off. 

He released her breasts and allowed her to undress him, standing in his swim trunks alone with the odd combo of his combat boots that he wore for riding. He stepped out of his shoes, tossing them to the side with his socks. 

He stepped back inward toward her, settling with a leg between her thighs, and he placed his hands on her arms, lowering her down to the carpeted floor. They both landed gently on their knees as they kissed, Veronica’s hands now running along the length of his bare chest. 

When her fingers rose to twirl around his nipples, he released a soft moan into her mouth. He began to lean back onto the floor, laying horizontal while he pulled her down on top of him. His hands slid from her arms down to her hips, tracing upward beneath the old cotton tee to find the band of her panties. 

“Take these off, please,” he asked, and she was too surprised by his courtesy to tell him no. She reached down to grab the hem and slowly yanked them down, slipping them off one leg at a time as she leaned over him. He watched as she sat up, straddling his chest while she held the panties up for him to see, the sign of a job well done. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before gripping her thighs and sliding her toward his face. “Now come here.” 

She felt jostled by his sudden movement, nearly losing her balance as he yanked her forward. He could feel the warmth of her sex near his chin and he began to salivate. 

“I’m not sure if I should let you do that. I’m not very happy with you right now.” 

“Shh, baby. You know you’ve been wanting this.” One of his hands left her thigh to trail up to her aching core, slipping a finger inside. “Just let me make you feel good.” 

She bit her bottom lip slowly, knowing it would turn him on even more. “You owe me.” 

He chuckled, his laugh throaty and thick. “I know, baby.” With that, he yanked her completely over his mouth and began to feast on her. 

She felt like riding the wave of his tongue inside her, but the grip of his other hand on her thigh held her still above him, deepening the pressure of his mouth on her pussy. She knew she was incredibly wet, feeling a bit modest, but the moment she looked down and saw his eyes closed, his mouth moaning in ecstasy, she let herself go. 

She leaned back, bringing one hand to fondle her breast through the cotton. She pinched her nipple and groaned as she felt his tongue poke at her opening in little flicks. She smiled to herself, thinking his mouth was good for so much more than cheeky wit. 

Feeling bold, she leaned back further, her other hand reaching around to grab his stiff length through his swim shorts. When she began to palm him, she felt him groan into her, sending vibrations rippling through her pussy. 

“Oh fuck!” she whispered loudly, taken back by the soundwaves that shot through her body. Her grip instinctually tightened around him and she felt his hips buck reactively against her. 

His hands came to grip her knees, forcing her to open up a bit more for him as he dove further into her, his mouth completely covered by the salacious taste of her dripping wet cunt. She was still stroking him through the swim suit, creating the right amount of friction, his dick feeling absolutely incredible in the grip of her fingers. 

When her fingers slipped past the band of his shorts and found him hot, the skin tight as his erection grew, he growled low and slow. 

He feasted until he felt her walls begin to quiver around his tongue, heard the quickening of her breath as she was near climax. He slid his tongue out of her, bringing a finger up instead to circle around her clit. She moaned out and bucked her hips forward, desperate for release. Her hand pulled his throbbing member up and pumped him faster, fingering the vein along the top of his shaft with her thumb. 

He could feel himself getting close, the grip of her hand bringing him to the brink of orgasm, but he fought to hold back, wanting to feel her erupt around his mouth one more time. As his finger circled her clit, his tongue returned to her folds, licking them up and down with his flat tongue. When he stroked right up the middle in a deep, firm lick, he felt her finally reach completion. 

The tips of her toes shot out sparks through her body as the orgasm ripped through her system, coming out through her mouth in a wave of harshly whispered expletives. He could taste and feel as a new set of warm liquid oozed out of her channel, seeping out onto his tongue and mouth. He lapped at her, grateful the gyration of her hand on his cock had ceased while she fought the aftershocks of her orgasm, not wanting to come quite yet. 

She let out a long, slow exhale and pushed herself back, sliding down on his chest and dismounting to lay beside him on the carpet. If she were hoping for a break, Sweet Pea had other plans, quickly rolling on top of his knees to tower over her. He gripped her legs and positioned them to wrap around his hips as he pushed forward, the tip of his cock knocking on the door of her hot sex. 

He reached forward with one hand and grabbed her wrists, bracing them together as he elevated her arms above her head, her fists resting on the foot of the bed. He pushed slowly into her and began to thrust, the angle of his dick causing her to scream out. 

“Oh shit fuck,” she cried, her head smacking into the side of the mattress as he pounded into her. With his other hand, he pushed open one of her legs, hinging it at her hip, giving him a wider view of her pussy as his dick stroked in and out of her. 

“Christ,” he muttered, looking down to watch her take him deep inside her, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling the puffy lips of her sex as he drove himself to the hilt. The sight only caused him to thrust more, fucking her harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. When he felt her come around him again, felt the vicelike grip of her walls and heard the echoing moan of her cries, he threw his head back and practically howled into the air with a deep, feral groan. 

She could feel his hot liquid scorch her insides, the thick load of his desire shooting through her like molten steel. 

They stayed connected for another minute as he hunched over her, his hands slipping from her wrists and thigh to brace himself above her, trying to catch his breath. She reached up in the space between them, brushing her thumb over his jaw before tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. 

“I think I can forgive you now,” she whispered with a smile, and he began to wonder if maybe she was referring to more than just his comments from earlier. 

“Oh, thank God,” he replied, his eyes widening playfully. “I was beginning to think I’d never get to argue with you again.” 

Her other hand snapped up to pat his ass and he chuckled. 

“Careful there. I’m still inside you,” and he shot her a teasing wink. 

He leaned back and pulled out of her, falling back on his heels while she scrambled underneath him to stand from the floor. He followed and stepped out of his swim shorts that had fallen down to his ankles. He gestured to her shirt. 

“You might as well remove that.” 

She looked down at her t-shirt and blushed, knowing he meant he wasn’t done with her for the night. She peeled the garment off of her as they both slipped into bed together, a move that was so natural and so domestic, it felt like something they had done many times before. 

He pulled the sheets up just to their navels, leaving their chests exposed, before he turned onto his side to wrap his arm around her stomach. His hand turned up, his long fingers reaching to brush against her nipples casually, an act that was less sexual and more of familiar comfort. 

“Tell me why your burlesque name is Lola Mi Nue,” he asked out of the blue. 

She furrowed her brow, taken aback by the randomness of his question. “Well, Mi Nue is French – it means ‘half naked.’ Lola is also a very French name. I guess I just wanted to give off this exotic Parisian persona. We all have our quirks, I guess.” 

“I’d say it’s a pretty effective quirk. I think you’re probably the best dancer there.” 

“Wow, Sweet Pea – is that a compliment I hear?” 

“Hey now, don’t get used to them. I’m a hardened biker, you know? I have a reputation to uphold.” 

She twisted around to face him, their bodies both turned onto their sides. “Whatever. I know you’re just a big softie.” 

“Shiiiit,” he replied with a grin, his beaming smile warming her heart instantly. 

“What do you want to do with your life, Pea?” she asked, watching him with intent eyes. 

“That’s a bit random.” 

“Yeah, well, so is asking about my club name, but here we are. Do you see yourself running with the Serpents forever?” 

He leaned back and sighed, bringing a hand to rest under his head. “I’m not sure, really. I never wanted to join the Serpents in the first place, but when you’re cut from the military and you have no career to fall back on, you sort of run out of options. My VA benefits weren’t enough to cover the bills, and I needed to do something to get by. My folks are both dead, so they couldn’t really help, though I’m not really sure either of them would have, or at least not my pop.” 

“Can I ask – what happened with your dad? I know you said he drank but did he hurt you? You seem to really hate him.” 

He paused before answering. “Not physically, if that’s what you’re asking, but there’s more than one way to hurt someone. He sort of went off the deep end when my mom died.” 

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Cancer – I know you were about to ask.” 

“I don’t want to pry, Pea…”

“No, it’s fine. Sometimes, it’s just hard to talk about this kind of shit.” 

She snuggled closer to him, settling her hand on his stomach where she could draw lazy, comforting circles. “You don’t have to tell me any more than you want to.” 

He turned his head a bit more to look at her face, finding compassion there in her kind brown eyes. “I know. You just have to give me time, Veronica. It just takes me time.” 

She nodded. “I understand.” 

He took a deep breath, chose to dive right in. “I actually watched my mother die.” 

“Like you were there in the hospital when she passed?” 

“Like I physically saw the life leave her eyes.” 

She sat up slowly, bracing herself on her elbow, her other hand still on Sweet Pea’s stomach. “Oh Pea, I’m so sorry.” 

He reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Shit happens. I was really young so it didn’t really hit me until later. The worst part was that a day before she died, she was really energetic. She was laughing and smiling and was even able to get out of bed and walk with me. Looking back – I think she was just rallying. I don’t think she wanted us to see her die the way she was, stuck in bed and weak. When she finally went, I didn’t really understand how it was possible. I think it hit my pop harder.” 

Veronica felt a lump in her throat form, devastated at the thought of a young Sweet Pea crying soft tears of misunderstanding and sadness next to the lifeless body of his own mother. “You were so young.” 

He nodded softly. “Yeah. I lost her before I even really had a chance to have her.” 

Veronica’s hand slid up to his chest, resting above his heart, and she could feel it beating fast. “I’m so, so sorry Sweet Pea. It’s not fair.” 

He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips where he placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Not much is, babe. That’s a hard lesson I’ve learned over and over again.” 

She tilted her head down and rested it where her hand had been, listening to the sound of his heart beat. 

“So what about your folks? From what you’ve said before, it doesn’t sound like they were really around for much.” He could feel Veronica tense beneath him. 

“They were around as much as they could be, I guess. Both of them are heavily involved in my father’s business. He makes a killing buying and selling old companies, making a profit from their devastation. I always secretly hated him for it, but I’m still working for him. I just can’t seem to get out.” 

“Why don’t you just go? Just pick up and leave, get the Hell out of Manhattan and the city? You could come live in Riverdale, come dance at the Wyrm.” He took a beat. “Come be with me.” 

She lifted her head slowly. “I thought you didn’t do relationships?” 

“I’m not saying we have to be in a relationship right out the gate or anything. It’ll just give us some time to be closer. Being apart from you for a week seems like too long sometimes.” 

She could feel her resolve softening, her heart aching with this new knowledge. It wasn’t much, but it was such a huge step for Sweet Pea, she could see, for him to admit how much he craved being near her. She realized it wasn’t easy for him to depend on anyone, and for him to need her the way he did – it filled her with something akin to hope. 

Later, after another hour of easy conversation, bouncing from motorcycles to movies to tastes in music and guilty pleasures, they fell into a simple cuddle as they drifted off to sleep – Veronica laying lazily on her stomach as he draped himself gently over her back, placing soft kisses along her side, his arms enfolding her in his embrace. 

They woke once more just before the dawn, Veronica arousing to feel Sweet Pea sweeping her up in a hug, feeling the gentle nudge of his erection at her entrance. She opened for him, taking him in and offering him safety as he clung to her, whispering her name and planting soft kisses across her neck. 

When they came, they came together, breaking the dawn into a new day, the sun shining in like gold as they fell asleep, still joined. 

As she began to drift, enveloped in his arms, Veronica felt more like home than she had in a while. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them. 
> 
> Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove that _she’s no angel after all._
> 
> Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE FINALLY HERE, Y'ALL. Hot damn, it took me forever to get my mind together and finish this chapter. I've been having a rough go of it lately and my anxiety has just been over the top. I fell out of love with this story, but I'm back and I'm ready to give you all what you want. I want to thank all of the people who have reached out to me about this story, asking for updates or just in general to talk about it. That has helped to push me through to complete this fic, and I'm so grateful. Same goes for the comments -- y'all, I hope I'm not being a pain in the ass about this, but it really does mean a lot when you comment. For example, totally thought about tossing this story, but reading all of the kind things you've said about this story, SweetVee, and my writing is the reason I'm pushing through. So thank you. It really does make a significant difference!
> 
> BIG WARNING: This chapter contains some sex acts that may be a bit… taboo, so to speak, in the fandom world. The idea may not come across as romantic, may not come across as intimate, but let me just stress first off that by this point, it should be obvious this pair cares for each other, and everything they do in the comfort of a bedroom (or kitchen, or living room, or bathroom, or wherever the Hell else they land) is between two consenting adults that enjoy each other immensely, both physically and emotionally. HOWEVER – the language is vulgar and descriptive, and I recognize not everyone is here for that in fanfiction. I just wanted to give you all a heads up. This chapter is basically me being as shameless as I could muster with the smut, and if you’re here for that, you’re very, very welcome ;) I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Also, possible trigger warning for anyone who has been in military combat. There is a scene with some flashbacks and PTSD, so please be aware.
> 
> With all of that said, let's get this party started!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination.

It was another overcast Friday afternoon when Veronica rolled into Riverdale, riding passenger in Cheryl’s Mercedes. She had planned for a steady evening at the Whyte Wyrm, but her expectations for a packed crowd were incredibly low, the rain and gray of an early fall thunderstorm typically a damper on clientele. No one wanted to drive and drink and give in to the delights of the night when there was the hazard of wet roads. 

The clouds hadn’t quite broken through, the threat still looming overhead, but Veronica had a feeling they were going to get their biggest storm yet of the season. 

Veronica had left her car in Manhattan for the weekend, choosing to hitch a ride with Cheryl who was already in town while her car was getting some much needed repairs. It wasn’t often that Veronica drove her own vehicle other than back and forth to Riverdale, but she knew the time had come for a quality tune up. 

As they turned onto the main road that ran through the Southside, Veronica heard the rumble of three motorcycles behind them. Looking in the rearview, she saw they were flanked by a leather clad Toni with clear plastic black-rimmed goggles, followed by a relaxed looking Fangs and the tall form of Sweet Pea. 

When Sweet Pea’s head turned in the direction of her side mirror, she could tell through his dark shaded sunglasses that he was looking at her reflection. The familiar shiver she got just being near him arose, shimmying up her spine as the hairs on her arms rose with goosebumps. Even her body couldn’t resist the thrill of his presence. 

When they collectively pulled into the Wyrm, Cheryl’s view turned toward the front row where the bikers had parked, beginning their dismount before removing their helmets. When she spotted Sweet Pea’s attention turn immediately to their car, his eyes searching straight for Veronica, Cheryl turned the ignition off. They sat in the lot for a moment, hesitation on Cheryl’s lips. 

“You know, I don’t think we’re going to get a lot of business in tonight. I was thinking of shutting the Wyrm down, but I know a couple of the girls need the cash so I won’t deprive them of the money. If you want to stay in, though, I’d be fine with that.” 

“Cheryl, you know I don’t mind dancing for free, which is practically what it would be tonight. You know money’s not my motivator.” 

“I know, but – I was thinking… you haven’t really had time for yourself in so long, bouncing from one job to the next every week. Maybe you should take a couple of days off.” Her head angled back toward Sweet Pea and Veronica was beginning to pick up on what she was trying to say. 

“Cheryl, I appreciate the gesture but I really don’t –“

“V, I love you, but I’m not stupid. You two have something going on, and while there is still a part of me that worries for you, I can see the way he looks at you. It’s like he’s got magnets in his head. It’s kind of intense, which scares me more.” She turned in her seat and reached out for Veronica’s hand that was resting on her knee. 

“But what scares me most is seeing you unhappy. I know how it feels to be with someone who can’t fulfill what you need, and I know what it’s like to feel trapped in a relationship you no longer want.” 

“What happened between you and Josie is not the same as what I have with Nick.” 

“Nick’s never cheated on you, but there’s more than one way to betray the person you love. And there’s more than one way to break a promise.” She shot Veronica an easy, kind smile. 

“I’m not saying you have to make any big life decisions. I’m just suggesting you take a couple of days, maybe explore something new. See if your head doesn’t clear after that.” 

Staring across the lot at Sweet Pea, Veronica was more concerned her head would only get foggier, the feelings she had begun to develop for him now untethered and basically running the show for her, uncontrolled. It was thrilling, this unleashing of emotion, wild and free, but it was new – and new things never came without the fear of change. 

She still had no idea what she was doing or where this thing with Sweet Pea could go. Ultimately, she was still attached to someone else, and she would have to make a decision whether to let that go or set Sweet Pea free. They weren’t in deep enough yet for hearts to get broken, but one more emotional dive and she worried they would be drowning and it would be too late. 

Still, the temptation of a weekend with Sweet Pea was hard to resist. After they had spent the night of the party wrapped around each other in Cheryl’s guest bed, they were essentially inseparable. Everywhere they could be together, they were – sneaking off into her dressing room, the bathroom at the bar in Pickens Park, even spending long nights intertwined in the bed of his motel room. 

Sweet Pea had made good on his words – being apart from her for a week had been too much for him to handle and whenever she was in Riverdale, he did his best to show her how much he missed her. The sex had been dynamo, which had always been a plus, but the true reward was the way he was slowly letting her in, breaking down his walls bit by bit. 

She learned more about the relationship with his father, one rife with tension and unresolved anger, mostly on Sweet Pea’s end. He blamed his dad for falling apart after his mother had died, for neglecting his duties as a father when his son needed him most. He partially blamed the club for indulging his dad’s alcoholism, a terse fact that he wore like a chip on the shoulder when he had to unwillingly join the Serpents. 

Sweet Pea had also opened up about the death of his mother, the cancer that plagued her, and the unending emptiness he felt with her death. It was in these moments that she felt true connection to Sweet Pea, more than she felt when they were physically connected at the hip. She supposed this should be an indication that she was sliding into deeper waters, but she couldn’t help her descent – it all just felt right. 

She tried to never live beyond the moment, and that’s what pushed her to exit the car and take the shaky few steps across the lot to where he stood, almost as if he were waiting for her. 

“So we meet again – in a bar parking lot of all places.” 

Veronica grinned at his words. “Classy, I know. Hey, look… what do you have going on this weekend?” 

He set his helmet down on the seat of his bike, his hand coming back up to ruffle the hairs that fell flat on the top of his head. 

“I hadn’t planned on doing more than being here, working. I mean, there is that expected rendezvous I have planned with this one chick, real ball buster. Other than that, nada.” 

She bit her bottom lip, her face breaking out into an even bigger grin. “She sounds intense.” 

“Boy, is she ever.” He stepped forward, bridging the gap between them as he leaned in, their faces now equal despite their massive height difference. “But I kind of like it.” 

Veronica’s eyes immediately drifted to his lips, the temptation to lean in and press hers against his manifesting as a dull throb in her chest, slowly traveling down to settle in the nest of warmth between her legs. Being so close to him always aroused her. 

“So Cheryl has given me the weekend off. Call it a much needed vacation. I was thinking about going back to Manhattan.” 

He slowly straightened and she could see the disappointment appear like a veil over his face. “So soon?” 

“Yeah. My car is still back in the city, and it just makes sense. I don’t want her to feel responsible for carting me around this weekend and then have to drive me all the way back to Manhattan just to take me home.” She paused for a beat. “I was wondering if you wanted to join me.” 

His eyebrow lifted and the veil slowly began to fade, replaced by the hint of a surprised grin. “Oh really?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I need a ride, and you’ve got one.” She ran her hand along the padded seat of his Harley. “I was thinking maybe you could give me one too.” 

He licked his lips, her proposal dripping with implication. “So what you’re telling me is that you need a lift that only I can provide?” 

She licked her lips and smirked at his innuendo. 

“What’s in it for me?” 

“Free room and board, and all the amenities that implies.” She stepped into his space again, her legs straddling his thigh. “Plus, my place has one Hell of a view.” 

He leaned down, his warm breath tickling her earlobe. “Well, shit – how could I say no to that?” He leaned in to press a soft kiss on the column of her neck. “However, I still have a job to do.” 

“Yeah, but I have a feeling the boss lady would excuse you for the weekend. I’m sure she could convince your boss to do the same.” 

He smirked back at her. “You’re probably right. You think of everything.” 

She tilted her head back, opening her neck for more of his physical advances. “You should see what I’m thinking of now.” 

“Mmm, I’ve got a few ideas.” His lips traveled upward, pressing a trail across her voice box and up beneath her tilted chin, curving around the angle of her jaw before he hovered over her lips. Before he could press them together, she placed a finger over his mouth. 

“We better get going then. It looks like it’s going to rain and I’m not sure if we want to be caught on the roads when it hits.” 

He let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at her teasing interruption. “Not fair, Veronica. But I guess you’re right. Let me tie on your bag to the back. It’s going to be a tight fit, but I think we’ll manage.” 

He shot her a wink before reaching out for her weekend luggage. Luckily, she had brought a simple duffel, nearly considered a large purse that she could stuff a few extra blouses and some jeans in for the weekend. He secured them to the back of the bike with a few bungee cords, checking for tautness before they both mounted up onto the Harley. He was right – they were going to be snug on the trip. Luckily, only an hour on the highway stood between them and the city. 

She loved the feel of her body pressed against his, the heavy weight of his sinewy back held in the grip of her two arms, her hands pressed against his abdomen as she hugged him close. The leather felt cool when she pressed her lips to his jacket, the only part of her face not covered by either a helmet or protective goggles. She always found it incredibly attractive how attune he was to making sure she was safe anytime she rode on the back of his bike with him. 

The entire ride was one giant tease, every curve of the bike and turn they took pressing their bodies closer together, stoking the flame that was building between them. Having denied his kiss in the Wyrm parking lot, she knew when they finally touched it would be combustible, and the excitement that coursed through her veins at the thought was white hot and electric. 

Just as they were cruising into the city, the rain came pouring down, falling all around them in a torrent. Sweet Pea was careful to steer the bike clear of any noticeable puddles, slowing his speed down as they hit traffic, but the newly dangerous nature of the ride only thrilled Veronica further, finding him navigating them safely while straddling a huge machine like his Harley a major turn-on. 

When they passed through security to park under the covered lot for her apartment complex, she was itching out of her skin to touch him. When he angled the front of the bike to park and switched off the ignition, allowing them both to dismount, she pulled hard at his wrist to bring him forward, his quick stumble the perfect opportunity for her to capture his lips in an achingly passionate kiss. 

His hands came up to finger the wet strands of her hair, the helmet no match for the steep angle of the rain as she was completely soaked. When they pulled away and she had a chance to take in his appearance, she thought he looked like a sexy wet dog – the mongrel with the feral gleam in his eye, the biker bar tramp to her penthouse lady. His hair fell into his eyes, dripping from the rain, his eyes thick with darkened lust, his lips plump from her assault. His chest heaved with excitement, his t-shirt stuck to his chiseled chest like glue and paper. 

She needed to rip it off of him. 

She continued to pull on his wrist as they scrambled to get to the service elevator in the garage, stamping on the “PH” button when they entered, anxious to press wet body to wet body. They rolled along the three main walls of the elevator, both of their backs crashing into the metal railing at some point in their tussle, mouth warring against mouth as they fought to devour one another. They made it to the fifth floor before they finally froze, trapped in a net of foggy lust. Veronica dug her hands into Sweet Pea’s back pockets, pushing his hips into hers, as his hands came up to cup her face, deepening their kiss. 

They were blessed with no interruptions, their kiss given another solid ten floors before the bell dinged for the penthouse. When the doors slid open, they both flew out into the hall, their lips still pressed together as their hands roamed and explored. It took all the strength Veronica had to pull away to unlock her front door, the feel of Sweet Pea’s hands under her shirt, pressed against her lower back driving her wild with need. 

When her door opened, they both tumbled inside, her hands immediately flying up to grip his neck. Beneath her embrace, he stripped off his leather jacket, dropping it onto the floor. Next, he picked her up, gripping the bottom of her thighs to lift her off the ground so she could straddle his waist. As she guided him in short, breathy whispers toward the direction of her bedroom, they began to disrobe, peeling back layer after layer until all they were left in were their pants. 

Sweet Pea’s mouth flew from her lips to her breasts, capturing a nipple in his mouth as he suckled her, his tongue darting against the tip in a few short flicks. When they stepped inside her room, she led him to the master bath a few feet away. 

“Let’s get in the shower.” She whispered from shivering lips, her cold wet skin craving the heat of the shower spray. He set her down and they made quick work of their pants, yanking them down and tossing them into a pile on the tiled floor. He followed her into the glass case where she reached down to flick the handle all the way to the left, the shower quickly cocooning them in a web of steam as their bodies collided once more. 

Sweet Pea backed Veronica up to the shower wall, the latte color of her skin flavoring the gunmetal gray tile. His hands slid up the length of her body, smoothing out the beads of water that dribbled down her flesh. His palms came up to caress her breasts, his thumbs landing on her peaked nipples, rubbing them in concentric circles to the tune of her moans as she released them into the mist around them. 

She reached down between them and gripped the hard flesh of his cock, pumping it in and out of her hands as she worked it with a flick of her wrist. With every three pumps, she brought his tip to her entrance, teasing him into a tense growl as she set a pattern, her wrist moving rhythmically in time with his tugging of her nipples. 

His head dipped low, his lips falling to the top of her shoulder where he began to press soft kisses, capturing the warm water into his mouth to drink. She was working him into a state, his control snapping beneath her thumb as she rubbed hers over the tip of his stiff cock, catching the precum as it gathered. When she brought it to her lips to suck, he saw red. 

In an instant, he hauled her body against his, jostling her hand free as he pivoted around and shoved her body against the glass shower entrance, her tits and palms pressing hard against the cold surface. She felt his hand curve around to find her hot and ready, and he pressed two digits inside, driving them inside her. 

“Holy fuck, Veronica,” he groaned, her temperature so hot it felt like she was burning him. He fought to control his desire, wanting to get her there first, but he could hold back any longer, his dick so hard it was painful. 

He spun her around, pressing her back against the glass and her thighs around his hips as he drove himself deep inside her, slamming into her pussy over and over again, the spray nearly drowning them both as they gasped for air. 

They couldn’t spare words, their fucking leaving them breathless, but their chests vibrated as they moaned together. Veronica could feel herself growing near, her thighs beginning to quiver as the tingle of an orgasm started to build between her legs, but before she could finish, Sweet Pea was grunting and spilling himself inside her, his hot liquid coming back out to dribble down her thigh. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, reaching down onto her leg to wipe it clean. “Sorry about that, sugar. I couldn’t hold back.” 

She smirked. “That’s a real first,” she teased, eliciting a chuckle from him. 

She stretched out when he released her from her position, grinning despite the fact that she hadn’t gotten off. The more they became involved, the less she cared about an orgasm, the feel of just being pressed together the kind of intimacy she was seeking. 

She reached over for a loofa and poured liquid soap from a nearby bottle onto it, lathering it up with both hands before instructing Sweet Pea to turn around. She ran the soap down his back, her fingers brushing past the defined curves of his trapezius muscles and the underside of his biceps. She watched as the suds slithered down his body and over the curve of his ass, licking her lips as she thought about her tongue taking the same trail. 

Her hand came around to clean his front, a wicked grin breaking out over her face when both of her hands lathered the soap over his limp cock, and he jumped back against her at the feel of her fingers over his sensitive flesh. 

“Careful there. I know it just went off, but it’s still a loaded gun.” 

“Sorry,” she replied, though she was anything but. Her hands came up to caress his chest, running the soap suds along the expanse of his torso. She heard him groan softly at the feel of her gentle touch, his head swiveling on the base of his neck left to right and back. 

When they were done cleaning each other, Veronica bent down to turn the water off, giving Sweet Pea another view of her spectacular ass. He licked his lips hungrily, desire already capturing him in its messy and powerful web. 

She stepped out of the shower first, but before she could grab the towel from the rack to cover herself, Sweet Pea reached out to grip her wrist. 

“Not yet.” 

She looked at him like she didn’t understand. 

“I got mine, baby, but you didn’t get yours.” He stepped closer to her, pressing himself up behind her as he guided her in front of the sink. “We’re not finished until you come.” 

They stood in front of her vanity mirror, stark naked and dripping wet onto the heated tile of her bathroom floor. He stood immediately behind her, and for the first time since she had met him, she was surprised at how evident their height difference was. His head towered over her, his chin resting casually on the top of her head, a true vantage point for his view as he took in the sight of her slick body exposed in the reflection of the mirror. 

One of his hands slid up her arm slowly, traveling across her collarbone and up the length of her neck, settling to cup her chin and cheek. 

“I want you to keep your eyes on the mirror. Do you understand?” 

She nodded her head quickly, her chest beginning to heave with anticipation. His other hand trailed along her hip, moving straight to the junction of heat between her thighs. She tried to tip her head down to watch him touch her, but his grip was firm and he refocused her. 

“What did I say? Eyes ahead, Veronica.” 

The sternness of his tone mixed with his use of her name had her arousal spiking, the warmth between her legs speeding into full heat. 

His fingers smoothed across her skin, landing on the twin lines of soft black downy curls that framed her sex. He slipped a single digit inside her and her head fell back into his chest, limited by his grasp on her chin. Her eyes met his in the mirror, brown on darkened brown, the severity in his making the hairs behind her neck rise in excitement. 

“That’s right, baby,” he whispered when she began to moan, his finger slowly pumping in and out of her, the sounds of her slickness singing out around them, driven straight from her aching core that he was torturing with his touch. 

He slipped a second finger into her, pushing into her harder and harder and her eyes slid down in the mirror to watch him sliding in and out of her. When he saw her eyes were glued to her dripping core, he retracted both fingers for her to see, both of them rubbing together with a gleam of her molten liquid arousal that coated him. 

“You’re so fucking wet, Veronica. Can you see how wet you get watching me get you off?” He slid both fingers back into her and pumped faster. 

She whined and groaned, her eyes closing momentarily before a jolt of his hips against her prompted her to open them once more. 

“What did I say?” he warned. In an act of punishment, his thumb swiveled up to meet the sensitive nub of her clit and he began to rub. Her hips bucked back into his and she could feel the hardened length of his erection pressing angrily against her back. 

“Watching you get off like this is making me so hard,” he confessed. “I may just have to bend you over and fuck you again.” 

She growled low in her chest and for a brief moment, his eyebrow quirked up in surprise. It had been the first time he had heard her sound so feral, so carnal. It made his dick twitch painfully. 

“You like that? You like thinking of me fucking you from behind? Can you imagine it – my hard cock pounding that little pussy of yours until you scream? Tell me, Veronica. Tell me.” 

“Yes,” she whimpered quietly, too caught up in the pleasure he was causing rubbing her clit as furiously as he was. 

“I didn’t hear that, baby. You’re going to need to be a lot louder than that.” And almost as if assisting her, he picked up the pace of his two fingers, curling them upward into a hidden cove inside her. When he began hitting this spot, a new sensation erupted throughout her system, this incredibly odd pressure that almost made her feel like she needed to pee, but only more intense, more pleasurable. 

The word “yes” ripped from her mouth as he continued to drive her wild, his fingers thrusting in and out of her, his cock twitching and throbbing against her lower back. 

She watched as his face erupted in a sinister smirk. “That’s a good girl.” And with that, he curled and drove into her even harder, the pleasure mounting to altitudes so high she felt like she was losing air. Her body began to cave, her stomach sucking inward as she rolled with the waves of pleasure slamming into her. 

“Oh God, oh shit – it’s too much. Holy shit, it’s too much.” 

“Not enough, you say?” he teased, pulsing his fingers inside her even more, his thumb running long, fast circles around her clit. 

“Fuck, shit – Goddamn it, John, I’m coming.” 

The darkness in his eyes appeared black as midnight, the torturous use of his birth name springing forth from the pleasure-crazed lips of the incredibly stunning woman before him making his dick ache beyond pain, nearly numb with how badly he craved release. He knew he needed to fuck her soon or he was going to snap. 

“Come for me, baby. Watch yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself,” he commanded, tightening his grip around her jaw to position her face directly below his in the mirror, their eyes locked together. 

“Let go, Veronica. Goddamnit, let go!” 

With his demand, she flew over the cliff, her legs quivering as a gush of hot liquid came rushing out of her, drenching his hand and the floor beneath them with something akin to her normal arousal. She kept spilling forth, her body betraying her as wave upon wave of pleasure slammed into her. She felt like collapsing, her body beginning to lean forward, when suddenly Sweet Pea’s hands rose to grab her by the waist, swinging her around to rest on the counter. 

Without warning, he shoved his painfully hard cock inside her, drilling into her with such fervor she barely recognized him, the look in his eyes that of a man gone mad. Another orgasm ripped through her wildly, and another, and she didn’t even think she had enough energy to blink. 

He looked down at her, could see she was succumbing to exhaustion, and he willed himself to come faster, yearning for that deep sensation of shooting everything he had into her hot, dripping wet core. He gripped her hips and pressed them harder toward him, using them as leverage as he pummeled her over and over. He looked up into the mirror and found the beastlike quality of his eyes, terrifying him. 

His lips came down to press the top of her head and she heard him mutter, “What are you doing to me, baby?” 

All she could do was moan softly in response, enough to send him soaring over the edge, thrusting into her a handful of times as he spilled his hot come inside her quivering and oversexed pussy walls. 

They remained silent as he fought to catch his breath. When he gathered all the remaining energy he could muster, he pulled her into his arms and carried her out to her bed. He laid her down gently on the mattress, pulling back the covers for her to lay under, still naked and damp. He covered her up, tucking the comforter around her body snuggly, planting a soft kiss on her temple before standing back up tall to look down at her. 

She looked utterly wrecked and at peace, already slipping into deep sleep with the soft, unlabored motion of her breathing. He had to get away from her, had to put some distance between them before he found the will to open her up and fuck her again. Somehow, being with her had unlocked something in him that both scared and thrilled him. Until he figured out which one he could live with, he had to step away. 

He slipped his jeans back on and exited her room quietly, the sounds of his stepping muffled by the off-white carpet beneath his feet. He went to his jacket left discarded by the front door and dug for his cigarettes, thankful to find them dry despite the rain, and crossed to the balcony he spied off of the living room. He unlocked the sliding door and escaped into the outdoors, finding some comfort in the taste of the nicotine against his lips. 

///////

It was just after eight in the evening when Veronica stirred, her body humming with a delicious ache that sung from toe to tongue. Her skin felt like heated silk, warm from her cocoon of covers and shimmering from the post-coital afterglow she always sported after a round with Sweet Pea. 

As if by natural instinct, she slung an arm behind her as she turned, expecting to find him curled behind, however when she found the spot of the bed next to her empty and cold, her stomach took a dive, the sickening sensation when she considered that he may have taken off while she slept. 

When she slid out of the bed, her arms stretching lazily above her head, she stood tall and surveyed the room. Her eyes fell upon the open doorway and there sat the discarded t-shirt Sweet Pea had been wearing earlier that afternoon, and she deduced he must be still be around, negating the possibility he would have taken off on his bike with his leathers and denim alone. 

She picked up the t-shirt, happy to find it had dried, and slipped it on over her head. She was almost swimming in its size, but the feel of his cotton mixed with his scent against her bare breasts shot a thrill up her spine. 

She padded down the long hallway and crossed into the kitchen area, looking around for any sign of Sweet Pea, surprised when she found him seated at one of the chairs of her rarely used dining table, a mug of something tucked in his hands. When their eyes met, he shot her a lazy grin. 

“Evening, princess. How’d you sleep?” 

She shrugged casually, crossing to the table to sit next to him. When the hem of his shirt lifted momentarily, giving him an appetizing shot of her sex and the tender black curls that framed her, the hungry gleam in his eyes arose. 

“Wonderfully,” she replied, her face broken out in a wide smile. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in years, though that’s probably because you weren’t there to wake me up.” Her eyebrow rose suggestively. 

“What are you doing out here in the kitchen?” 

His finger tapped the side of his mug, his lips tugged down in a relaxed frown. “Couldn’t sleep. Felt like having some coffee instead. By the way, that espresso contraption you have? Piece of shit. Took me forever to get the damn thing to work.” 

“Pea, all you have to do is press two buttons.” She sighed. “Are you hungry at all?” 

“I could eat,” he replied, his eyes skimming her half-dressed appearance, and suddenly the look on his face told her there was more than one type of dish he was referring to. 

She quickly scooted out of her chair and away from the reach of his hands, tiptoeing over to the cabinets beside the stove to assess her pantry situation. 

“Let’s see… I’m sure I’ve got some chicken cutlets in the fridge and I’ve got breading here. I can make chicken piccata. I also have enough pasta in here if you want spaghetti. I’m sure I have some red sauce stashed in there somewhere,” she listed, pointing to the stainless steel appliance humming quietly in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Pasta’s fine. I could do with a little carb binge.” 

Veronica reached into the cabinet for her pasta container, setting it down on the counter before crossing to the fridge. She opened the door wide open as she searched for a jar of the leftover red sauce she had made earlier in the week, retrieving a chunk of fresh parmesan as well from the crisper. The chill of the fridge brushed against her bare thighs, a fair contrast to the warmth building between her legs just being near Sweet Pea, the vision of him shirtless in her dining room one that was sending naughty thoughts to her brain. 

She pulled a large pot out from under the island counter, setting it under the sink to collect water. She tossed her head over her shoulder as she shouted above the spray, “Want any wine?” 

Sweet Pea tossed back the remainder of his coffee and stood from the table. 

“No thank you,” he responded, carrying the coffee mug over to the kitchen sink. “I don’t drink, remember?” 

“Oh shit,” she replied, cursing herself mentally for her forgetfulness. “I totally spaced. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay – doesn’t bother me. If you want a glass of wine, have a glass of wine.” 

She shook her head, and he knew she was trying to be accommodating. Part of him was grateful while the other part dreaded her pity. 

“No, it’s fine. I probably shouldn’t drink any wine anyway. It’ll give me a headache and I’m probably already a tad dehydrated.” 

He leaned in next to her, placing a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. “I wonder why…”

She moaned softly, closing her eyelids, not realizing the water was beginning to spill over the rim of the pot. It cascaded over her fingers that gripped the handles, covering her hands in a cool rush, but all she could focus on was the way his plump lips felt pressed against her flushed skin, his palm skimming along her thigh and up toward her aching sex. 

“Pea…” she whispered, lost in the feel of his touch. 

“You’re overflowing, Veronica,” he breathed into her ear, his fingertips brushing past her aroused entrance. 

“Yeah?” she moaned back, her head tilting to the side to give him more room for his lips to press, but the fog around her brain was quickly cut through with the sound of his chuckle. 

“Yeah, you’re spilling water all over the place.” 

Her eyes flew open, drawn to the sight of the sink filling with water as the pot’s edge was breached and water poured over into the basin beneath. 

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, flustered from his touch and her lack of control. She shut off the spout, dumping some of the water out to make enough room to boil. She carefully wiped the bottom of the pot with a towel and set it on top of one of the gas stove burners, turning the heat to medium high. 

“Get a little distracted there?” he asked casually, leaning with his back against the counter. She turned to shoot him a dirty look. 

“Haven’t you heard it’s not nice to heat up the oven and not stick anything in?” 

“Do you want me to stick something in? Because I can,” he replied, slowly crossing to her, backing her up into a corner section of the counter. “I can bake something for you all night.” 

She burst into laughter, followed by his accompanying chuckle. 

“That’s probably the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Sweet Pea.” 

“Yeah, well – blame it on the fumes,” he muttered before his lips fell down to meet hers. The kiss was feather soft, just below the surface of teasing, a light dance of skin on skin. His hands framed her body, but it wasn’t intimidating, more like the natural progression of getting closer to her. 

It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t mad – it was simple and soft like a whisper. Veronica didn’t feel compelled to shove him down closer to her and he didn’t feel like anchoring her body beneath his against the cold marble surface of the counter. Instead, they kissed just as they were, and the space between their bodies filled with a new kind of magic heat that had her body shuddering with nerves. 

When they broke free, their lips coming apart in a slow back-step, they both smiled with closed eyes, reveling in the unexpected moment of intimacy between them. 

Just as soon as it began, it had ended, and Veronica was casually brushing past Sweet Pea to attend to the pasta. He crossed to a barstool and perched his towering frame on the padded seat, watching her as she dumped the red sauce into a small saucepan to reheat. 

“Do you make your own marinara?” 

“I do,” she answered, pursing her lips as she fiddled with the stove knob. “My grandmother on my father’s side is Italian and she taught me how to make it one summer when I was young. I make it pretty much once a week.” 

“Do you like to cook?” 

“Yes, and no,” she frowned. “It really depends on how hard my day has been and who I’m cooking for.” Immediately, she regretted her choice of words, knowing his mind would go right to the thought of Nick. 

Sure enough, he was tactless enough to bring it up. “Does he compliment your cooking?” 

She hummed for a second, considering. “Sometimes. I know he tries his best to, though most of the time I don’t think he’s really paying attention and just says what he says because it’s been bred in him to be polite.” 

“So he’s well-mannered,” he continued, his train of thought becoming more and more obvious. “I bet he opens the door for you and all of that shit.” 

She cleared her throat, reaching for a wooden spoon to stir the sauce while eyeballing the pasta water to see if it was boiling. “He does, but that’s just his pedigree. It’s basically part of his job to schmooze people all day, so what he brings home is most likely scraping the bottom of the barrel.” 

“I bet he went to some fancy ass school. Seems like he’d be the type to go to one of those places where they stick a poker up your ass and tell you to smile.” 

Her muscles were beginning to tense, sensing his rivalrous tone with every question and every conclusion. 

“I bet he even fucking knows Italian too.” 

“Jesus Christ, Pea – it’s not a competition.” 

“It isn’t? Because I seem to remember you’re fucking us both.” 

She took a minute of silence to gather her thoughts, carefully plan her words. “Is that a problem for you? I didn’t think it had been one up until now.” 

He tried to brush her off casually, but the frown on his face said it all. “Not a problem. It’s just eventually only one of us will be fucking you. We can’t go on doing this forever, Veronica. Eventually one of us is going to want out.” 

When she stayed silent, he came to a sickening realization. “He doesn’t know about me, does he? Goddamnit, Veronica.” 

“Why would he know about you? Why the Hell do you think I’d tell him?” 

“I don’t know. I know about him. I just thought maybe you two had some weird sort of open arrangement. I mean, surely he’s not satisfied either with the status of your sex life.” 

She shrugged, attending to the now boiling over pasta water. “He hasn’t complained yet. Besides, do you think he’d really be okay with me fucking another guy?” 

“I don’t know why not since you expect me to be cool with it.” 

She froze, her eyes coming up to meet his, and there laced inside the annoyance was pain. Perhaps it was already too late for him. Perhaps it was already too late for them both. 

They had already begun to fall. 

“Pea – I’m sorry if you feel I led you on with our type of arrangement. I just assumed you knew.” 

He looked down at the counter, his eyes finding a piece of stray dry pasta appealing and interesting. “I mean, I guess if I’m being truthful with myself, it would be pretty dumb to think your boyfriend knew. I just didn’t want to think about it. But now, here in this apartment that you invite him into when you’re not in Riverdale with me, I guess it just hit me how divided your life really is. You’ve got your life with him, and you’ve got… whatever with me.” 

Her heart squeezed tight in her chest, his words like an angry vice that nearly sliced through her. She should have expected his insecurities with trust would come out to play, that he’d naturally start to compare what she had with Nick versus what she had with him, trying to measure the probability of her walking out on his life. She wasn’t sure what conclusion he had come to, but based on the fact that he remained planted in his seat and not out the door, she deduced either he still was unsure or he had hope in the end she’d choose him. 

The fact that he had hope, the fact that he _cared_ enough to have hope, made her heart hurt even worse. 

Pea,” she began, but she couldn’t push herself to face his concerns, no matter how justified he was in having them. She cleared her throat and clicked off the knob for the stove. “Pasta’s done.” 

He watched as she danced around their conversation, crossing to another cabinet to retrieve a colander. She set the appliance into the sink and grabbed both handles of the pot filled with pasta, dumping the water and noodles into the slotted container to drain. The steam rose around her face, billowing in hot mist – the perfect metaphor for the heat that built between them as she attempted to avoid whatever the Hell was going on between them. 

For the next few minutes, the two stepped around each other to add pasta and sauce into their respective bowls. They carried their dishes into the living room, choosing to dine more casually than gathering at her pristine dining room table. They lounged back on her sleek, steel gray couch, and in a surprising gesture Veronica allowed Sweet Pea to rest his feet on top of her expensive leather ottoman. 

She curled up with her ankles tucked behind her, hand twirling a fork into the spaghetti as they switched gears, choosing to indulge in light-hearted conversation. She learned Sweet Pea was a huge baseball fan, exclusively the Mets, and that he collected trading cards of various ball players when he was a young boy. Veronica told Sweet Pea her favorite hobby as a little girl was riding her bike in Central Park with her nanny, the only time she could lift her arms from the handles and feel the wind rush like freedom through her thick dark curls. He chuckled at this story, commenting how they both shared a love for two wheels and the open road. 

They ticked down the list of favorites – ice cream, colors, types of comfort food. They exchanged top five bands, Veronica going so far as to bring up the latest album of Meek Mill’s, aptly titled “Dreams Worth More Than Money,” and the sound of Philadelphia rap sung out from her sound system. Sweet Pea was more of a classic rock kind of guy, but he allowed her to indulge in the music, rewarded with the way her body subtly moved with the rhythm of the sound. 

As she was closing her eyes, losing her hips to the beat as she swayed on the couch, he reached out to remove the empty bowl from her hands. She smiled lazily at him. 

“What are you doing?” 

He set the bowl on the ottoman and slid from the couch, landing softly on his knees. He reached out for her calves and yanked, pulling her ankles out from under her. When her feet were planted on the soft beige carpet of her living room, he slowly and purposefully spread her legs wide. 

“You’re so sexy when you move like that. I want you to keep moving.” 

“Pea,” she whimpered, her thoughts quickly turning to mush as he shifted her forward, her sex settled right off the edge of the couch in his direct line of sight. He leaned in, his mouth firmly pressed to her core, his tongue darting out to lap at her folds. She was already wet, more of her desire rolling out of her in gentle waves. 

“Mmm, you taste so good, baby,” he moaned, the vibrations from his lips singing through her center. Her head fell back as her hand moved forward, deftly caressing the thick strands of his hair. 

“Shit, Pea,” she groaned, feeling his tongue press flat against her, running a long strip from top to bottom and back up inside her. The tip tickled her walls, dipping in and out of her hot entrance before coming out to lick at her lips. When his mouth came up to connect with her clit, his firm lips pressing together on her nub before releasing to suck, she let out a sob, her grip around his hair tightening in reaction. 

“Oh God,” she cried, the light from a nearby lamp highlighting the perky posture of her nipples, poking up into the thin material of his t-shirt still adorning her chest. 

Sweet Pea’s eyes rose to watch her ride out the wave of pleasure as his tongue rolled through her once more, his tongue gathering her juices as he went. The taste of her was nearly as intoxicating as the sight, her back arched off the cushions of the couch, her fingers of one hand dug into a throw pillow as she clutched it tight. The fingers in his hair switched from tug to absentminded touch, her body lost to the sensation of his mouth feasting on her sensitive sex. 

“So sweet,” he muttered between laps, and her responding groan only made the smirk on his face deepen. 

He brought a single finger to tease around her inner thigh, drawing soft circles as his tongue pushed further into her, probing her entrance with the tip playfully. 

“You need to keep moving, Veronica. Let me see those hips sway,” he directed, his eyes still glued to her writhing form. The music continued to waft from the speakers, its low droning accompanied by her soft moans and groans, the slap of his wet tongue on her hot center. 

She did her best to comply, rolling her hips in waves as the lyrics floated above them on a melody, the fast beat of the rap driving the motion of her body above him. His finger danced from her inner thigh toward her entrance, tickling the skin before his tongue slipped out of her, leaving room for his finger to enter. 

When he slipped inside, her back arched so deep, her hips lifted slightly from the couch, her hand digging even more into the throw pillow as her other hand released his hair to cover her mouth, shielding the room from a guttural moan. He sat back on his heels, his finger beckoning her from the inside, the crook of his knuckle pressing against her sensitive channel, watching her as he played her like an instrument. 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded quietly, so soft it was nearly a whisper, but the tone was firm and severe enough that her eyes flew open to meet his. 

Without speaking, she reached down with the hand covering her mouth, trailing across her covered chest and down to the aching apex between her legs he was fingering. She waited a beat for him to instruct her, but when he removed his finger and sat back to watch her, speechless, she took his silence as a cue for her to take charge. 

The tip of her finger eased down from the top of her sex, sliding along the moist surface to settle right on the nub of sensitive flesh and nerves at the top. She circled the nub around slowly, working herself up to a wanton pace, a newfound sense of promiscuous freedom overtaking her as she watched him take her in with his eyes only. 

She could sense that he wanted to touch her, but ultimately she found his self-control incredibly sexy. She knew he was building up to something so explosive it would blow her and her body away. 

When they locked eyes, his gaze deep and intense and dark, she felt a blaze of boldness shoot up her spine. She beckoned with the hand previously clutching the throw pillow for him to meet her lips for a kiss. He took her lead, rising from his bent knees to lean over her finger, the thrill of her touching herself between them making him hard. 

Just as he was settling in to press hungry lip to lip, she brought the finger inside her pussy up to his mouth. Before he could wrap his lips and tongue around the skin, savoring her unique flavor, she pivoted the finger around and brought it to her own mouth, sliding it past her plump dark pink lips to taste. 

His eyes turned midnight, the lust seeping into his gaze like a flood. His chest rattled with a deep groan and his dick became absolutely rigid. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, reaching out to press his mouth hungrily against hers, desperate to capture any last drop of her taste on her tongue. She moaned in surprise, taken aback by his sudden appetite for her, but still she brought her finger back down to her aching pussy, dipping back inside of herself to circle and push. 

“Make yourself come, Veronica. I want to watch you make yourself come.” 

His pleas were near desperate, the thick bulge in his pants now rubbing against her exposed thigh as she opened herself wider for him to look down and watch. As he gyrated along the surface of her leg, his eyes glued to the sight of her sopping wet center squishing around her finger as she pumped in and out, he knew one thing for certain – _Veronica Lodge knew how to put on one Hell of a show._

He was hankering for the feel of her around his cock, his arousal throbbing against the seam of his pants. As he listened to her moaning next to his ear, he felt the twitch of his dick with every escape of breath from her mouth. 

“You better hurry, baby. I need you.” 

The rushed tone of his voice mixed with the swift brushing of his confined hard cock against her bare skin was driving her closer to climax, her finger alternating between thrusting inside of her hot core and wiggling her clit like a woman driven wild with speed. 

“I’m so close,” she whispered, the top of his dark hair tickling her chin as he bent down further to watch her take her finger in over and over, so entranced by her performance he was practically hypnotized. 

“Not close enough,” he growled, and she could feel his hand creeping back up along her inner thigh to touch. 

“No!” she cried out, though the pitch of her word surprised them both. His head tilted up to greet her and she bit her bottom lip. 

“I want to come in front of you, Pea. With just me…”

His eyes closed slowly and he let out a large exhale, his restraint in near tethers as her last words were close to sending him over the edge. He needed to have her, needed to feel her scorching wet sex wrapped around him, taking him in like a sleeve. 

“Hurry, baby. I need you, NOW,” he growled again, his hand leaving her thigh to unzip his jeans. She peered in between their bodies to see him unfold himself from his pants, his palm wrapping around his stiff length to stroke up and down. When she whimpered, he looked back up at her and his face broke out into a smirk at the sight of her teeth trapping her bottom lip tightly. 

“Like what you see?” 

She lifted her eyebrows in affirmative, her finger quickening with the pace of his stroking, imagining him deep inside her, thrusting harder and harder. She felt the sure sign of climax begin to build in her extremities, the shiver as her body clenched and unfurled, coming apart powerfully. Her eyes squeezed together and she suddenly saw stars. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” she heard him utter as he suddenly stood from his position over her. He bent down to scoop her closer to the edge of the couch, feeling the tip of his cock connect with her pussy as she was still coming, and he buried himself deep. His arms reached beneath her ass to pull her closer to him, urging her arms to help brace herself by wrapping around his strained neck, and he lifted her up, his cock still embedded within her. 

He fucked her as they stood for a handful of deep, hard thrusts, and her cries filtered through the room in a sexual harmony that drove him to nail her harder and harder. 

In a quick move, he turned and flipped her on her back on the soft surface of the carpet, her legs still wrapped heavily around his waist. When he stumbled a bit, pushing himself deeper inside her, he felt her body tremble and heard the cry that escaped her lips, flying into the air as her body soared into its next orgasm. 

He grunted low at the sensation of her pussy quivering around him, nearly losing himself right there within her, but he pleaded with his body to hold tight, desperate to feel the clench of her around him for a few more minutes. 

His mouth sank down to press a firm kiss against her neck, his mouth turning sloppier the longer he fucked her, the haze of their sex taking over his senses completely. 

“Jesus,” he stuttered as his name ghosted from her lips, her eyes closed as she drifted deep in a post-orgasmic mist. He could feel his resolve quickly slipping and yet he thrust, harder and faster into her, his face scrunched up as he fought to hold back. He wanted to bring her to the edge again. He could never make her come enough, his appetite for her climax and the tone of her voice as she screamed his name insatiable. 

She gathered enough energy to clasp onto his back with her hands, her nails digging mercilessly into the muscles. She scraped them down the surface of his skin until she gripped his ass with both hands, jabbing the sharp peaks of her fingers into his firm flesh. 

“That’s right, baby. Fuck me,” he heard her whisper, the filthy raspy tone of her voice sending his thrusts into overdrive. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” he shouted into the crook of her neck as he thrust one final time, spilling himself deep, his toes digging into the carpet as he leaned over her. Together, they clung for another solid three minutes, breathing into the thick musky air around them. 

“You’re an animal, Pea,” she mumbled playfully into his ear, her hands sliding back up to the back of his head to gently caress the thick strands of hair there. 

He chuckled in response, trying to catch his breath so he could plant more kisses along the skin of her neck. “I don’t know what it is about you, Veronica. I can’t seem to get enough of you.” 

As she looked up at the ceiling of her living room, she couldn’t help the satisfied grin that broke out across her face. “I’m flattered.” 

He slid out of her and moved to fall back on the heels of his feet, breaking their embrace. His eyes met hers, his lips quirked up in his signature smirk. 

“Is that all?” 

Though she knew he was being playful, she could almost taste the hint of panic in his words. He wanted her to tell him this meant more to her than just a rough tumble and tangle of limbs, harsh kisses and hard fucking. 

“No, that’s not all, Sweet Pea.” 

“You like when I fuck you?” 

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes drawn to his already stiffening arousal. “How are you already hard again?” 

“You’re driving me crazy, Veronica. I don’t like it.” 

She smirked with her lips pressed together, her arousal beginning to awaken again as well. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get enough. The situation between them was building to addictive levels, their sex a drug that she had gone so long without. Now that she had a taste, she was hooked, dependent, needing him like her life could only run on the sexual energy between them. 

“I think you do,” she replied, her eyes falling upon his stiff length, elevated and twitching in the space between them. 

His eyebrow raised at her defiant tone, the questioning nature in her words only making his dick throb more. 

If she wanted to challenge him, he’d match her pace for pace, fuck for fuck. 

“Get on all fours, Veronica.” 

She felt like creating sparks, her body crackling with a newly aroused sexual awakening. “No.” 

“You really want to fight me on this?” His hand reached down to swipe against her exposed pussy, his knees still settled between her wide open legs. When he gathered a bit of their combined juices on his finger, he brought it closer to her lips. 

“You want to taste yourself?” 

She lifted her chin, casually trying to capture the finger with her rounded mouth, but he yanked the digit away, sticking it instead in his own mouth for his tongue to swirl against. He released it from his lips with an audible pop. 

“Mmm, tastes good.” 

Her nostrils flared with challenge. “You just wait until you’re inside me. I’m going to clench down so fucking hard on you. Payback.” 

Sweet Pea smirked, reaching down to grip his cock and press the tip at the gate of her sex, causing her to arch her back and moan. 

“Not if I stick it in your ass instead.” 

Veronica flashed him a dangerous look, but beneath the surface there was an incredible shade of lust and he felt the wheels in his head switch gears, suddenly tempted to make good on his promise, the thought of her tight warm asshole squeezing him as he thrust in and out of her clouding his thoughts with a thick shade of red. 

“Now I said get on all fours.” 

The look in his eyes was almost lethal, a wicked gleam of authority that caused her skin to burst into a series of goosebumps. Suddenly, all she wanted was to feel him deep inside the one place she had never explored, the one place she had never been touched. 

She scooted out from under him and resumed her position with her knees and palms planted on the carpet. She pushed her ass back for him, wiggling it in a not so subtle fashion, but stopped when she heard him chuckle. 

“I’m not giving it to you that easily. You’ve got to beg for this cock.” 

His hand traveled up the length of her thigh from the back, clenching around the defined curve of her ass with a tight squeeze and subsequent smack on the fleshy part of her bottom. He reached for his length and palmed himself, using her residual slickness from his earlier fuck to lubricate the tip. He pressed the spongy peak inward toward her dripping wet folds, teasing her slowly, his smirk growing as the groan building within her finally escaped her lips. 

“You want me to fuck you again?” 

Veronica nodded in a daze, lost in the overwhelming urge to shove herself backwards and envelope him deeply inside her. His hands held her still, though, and his grip was always firm. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you want me to fuck you.” 

“F—fuck me.” 

He bit his bottom lip as he watched her ass squirm in his hands, her pussy glistening and inviting. The thought of shoving himself hard inside her core, feeling the tight suction of her walls around his cock, was tempting, but he had other plans. 

He released himself from his hand and brought a finger up to stroke her pussy, catching a bit of the moisture on the tip. Veronica’s hips bucked backwards and he had to hold her still, not done teasing her into full submission. He wanted her to beg, wanted her to tell him just how much his cock made her go mad. 

“Not yet, baby. You haven’t earned this cock.” He pushed his finger deeper inside of her, the tip up to the first knuckle completely covered in her. He groaned just past his lips. “Goddamn, baby. Your cunt is so wet for me.” 

Veronica, caught off guard by his filthy words, moaned from deep within her chest. “Don’t say such dirty things.” 

He scoffed, pushing even deeper inside. “You think that’s dirty? Baby, we’re just getting started.” 

His finger began to pump in and out of her, her juices collecting in the crook of the tip as he curled it upwards to wiggle her g-spot. She began to ride his hand, her ass pressing back against his palm with every wave of her hips. Just as he was feeling her walls begin the first sign of their quivering, he slipped out of her. 

“Pea!” she shouted, and immediately felt embarrassed, not used to acting so desperate at the hands of another person. 

“You’re really aching for it, princess.” His finger dipped back inside her briefly before it slithered upward toward her ass. He teased her entrance, smoothing her slick wetness around it before he stuck the tip of his finger just past the point of breach. 

“And what about this hole? You want to be fucked here?” 

Veronica shook her head wildly, but her hips were bucking backward in want. He removed the tip of his finger from her and brought his hand up to spit into the palm. He rubbed the saliva over his throbbing cock, fingering the thick vein that ran down its length, and brought the tip to her ass entrance. 

“Hold on baby,” he warned before he shoved himself past her entrance, the tight squeeze of her asshole nearly pushing him back out. She yelled out, the pressure of his thrust warring with the burning sting of his thick flesh forcing itself through a rigid opening. He showed her the courtesy of moving slow at first, his eyes rolling in the back of his head at the heavenly sensation of her clenching around his cock in the most sinful of ways. His hands came up to grip her bottom, his palms pulling her cheeks apart so he could watch her glorious ass take him in and out. 

“Oh baby, your ass is squeezing my dick so tight, it’s so. Fucking. Good,” he punctuated as he picked up his pace, his hands slithering around to her hips to bring her closer to him. When she leaned forward and slammed her bottom back against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside her ass, he let out an excited moan. 

“Fuck baby, you’re really loving this.” He pounded into her quicker and quicker. “Your ass is taking this dick like a champ.” 

She thrust her hips back once more before she tried to lean back and arch into him, driven up by the odd pressure of him inside her, but he reached down to push her forward toward the surface of the carpet. 

He reached around with an eager hand to dive under her t-shirt and grip one of her breasts, kneading the soft flesh with his calloused and desperate fingers. She leaned down deeper into the carpet, her hips rising even further into the air, his dick still connected with her ass. They resumed their rhythm, his thrusts matching the pace of his caress as his fingers pinched, rolled, and tugged her nipples possessively. 

As their bodies slapped together with every thrust, his eyes drifted up to take in the area around them. Next to the couch on the side table sat a framed photo of Veronica clad in a long, shimmery black gown, her smile generic, and he recognized the curve of her lips stopped just beneath the cheek line, not extending up to her eyes with the mirth he recognized when they were together. Next to her in the photo stood a beaming man with curly brown hair, his dimples evident as he curved a hand around Veronica’s waist. 

Instantly, he felt rage. 

He leaned in deeper near the side of her face to whisper into her ear, his hot breath tickling the small hairs around her lobe. 

“Does he fuck you like this, Veronica? Do you let him inside you like this?” He felt her tense up beneath him briefly, though her body continued to roll with his. 

“Stop, Pea,” she moaned, the implication on the tip of his tongue filling her with the confusing concoction of both lust and sadness. 

He ignored her request, his tongue peeking out to lick just beneath her ear. One of his hands fell below her navel, finding her aching center as he penetrated her pussy with his finger. He could feel her quivering madly, just near climax. “Tell me, baby. Who fucks you like I do? Who gets you this wet from a little ass fucking?” 

He thrust into her with his finger faster and faster. “Who can make you come like this?” 

“Pea….” She trailed off, the feeling of her impending orgasm just on the brink. 

His finger slipped out of her, his hand coming back to connect with her ass, the sting smart and the following grip rough. “Fucking tell me, baby. Tell me now.” 

His demands brought her closer to madness, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she fought against the urge to explode and come all over the carpet beneath her. She knew he would keep torturing her if she didn’t call out his name, didn’t tell him the truth – _no one could fuck her like he could._

“You, baby. Only you.” 

Sweet Pea smirked, both of his hands now resting on her hips. “Damn fucking right,” he muttered before he dug his fingers into her skin and fucked her harder than he had all night, her chest slamming down into the carpet with such force it nearly took her breath away. She screamed out, feeling the orgasm build and build before overflowing, the warm gush between her legs soon trailing down her inner thigh. 

Sweet Pea groaned with his thrust, the crescendo one giant grunt as he slammed into her one last time before he was spilling himself inside her ass, the warmth of his come coating him within the tight confines of her entrance. 

Together, they panted in harmony as the last track of the CD faded out into silence, the only sounds now of them breathing heavily. 

Slowly, they came apart before collapsing side by side on the carpet, Sweet Pea on his stomach as his arm came around to drape over her torso. Vaguely, she recalled the feeling of his lips pressing soft butterfly kisses on her shoulder, the warm heat of his breath on her skin, as she drifted off into over-exhausted sleep. 

///////

_Bullets fell like drops of smoky acidic rain upon the sand and dirt around him. Puffs of yellow particles and metal burst somewhere nearby, the propulsion filling his open mouth with grit and something metallic tasting that soon transformed into fresh blood. Suddenly, there was screaming and his ears and lungs filled with the familiar cry of fear and pain._

_When there is silence, he recognizes that is where true horror resides. Time to collect the dead._

_He assesses the land around him, eyeing each body from his knelt position for any signs of life, any signs of danger._

_You always have to watch your back before you turn into one of the lifeless, he has to remind himself._

_Somewhere near, behind the piece of a car hood, he picks up on the shuffling of skin against dirt, the brushing of something heavy forming divots in the sand. His head perks around, eyes like a hawk, and his sight falls upon the body of his bunk mate._

_His leg had been detached, pieces of bone dangling where there was once protective skin, framed by the shredded remains of a military uniform. Beneath the tattered stump sat a pool of blood still forming, its circular body seeping into the sand, another life force quickly absorbed into the ground like water. The rest of the man’s body was shaking, his mouth convulsing with sound as a rivet of red ran from the corner of his lips down to his chin._

_“Marcus,” Sweet Pea shouts, though there’s a part of him that doubts he’s made a sound at all. He rushes over, still ducking to protect himself from any potential threat, and crouches low next to the man bleeding out._

_He sees the man’s eyes are vacant, searching from side to side like a tremor, and his throat is gurgling as he tries to make air go in and out._

_“Buddy, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Sweet Pea feels himself form the words, fights to maintain his composure for his dying friend while the part inside of him tugs that shouts at him to let go and run away. He pushes the inclination aside, his emotions stuck behind auto-pilot, as he naturally reaches around to support his friend’s neck and prop him up on his settled shin._

_There’s a part of his mind that registers the cries around him, the shouts of his commander and his fellow comrades flitting across the makeshift battlefield that had easily been a market only minutes before, but he can only truly hear the sounds of Marcus gurgling for air, the crunch of the sand beneath him, and the furious beating of his own frightened heart._

_Just as Marcus’s jaw fell slack, the movement of his eyes stilled, Sweet Pea had the vision of his father gripped between his sweaty palms, his mouth hung open as vomit dried on his lips, his eyes burning with a dark brown, lifeless and empty and gone._

_“Pea! Pea!” he heard someone shout, the feel of two tiny hands pressing around his biceps as he held Marcus’s dead body in his hands. Just as the other person shook him, his head swiveled to the side, his fight or flight mode triggering to attack, and he was greeted with a pair of large brown doe eyes._

He snapped out of sleep just in time to stop his body from reacting, his fingers gripping the bedsheets to prevent himself from lashing out unsuspectingly at the other person in bed with him. 

In the dark, he could see Veronica above him, her eyes searching his to see if he was present and awake. 

“Pea – Pea, are you here? Are you with me?” 

He could feel the quick rise and fall of his chest as he fought for air, the hairs on his sweaty extremities sticking up in goosebumps. He wanted more than anything to be there with her but he felt like he was floating somewhere in between, desperate for a place to settle. When he felt her hands come up to hold his face in place, felt the soft brush of her thumbs against his skin, he steadied and found the air he was so hungry for. 

“Veronica,” he muttered shakily, his breath still coming in and out in small gasps. He could hear her purse her air through a narrow rounded mouth. 

“Just like this, baby. Come on, breathe like this.” 

He did his best to imitate her actions, the trembling of his body beginning to subside with every shared breath as he matched her pace. He leaned into the caress of her hands on his face and he felt her body dismount above him to land next to him, her hands drifting down to sweep the beads of sweat from his bare chest. 

“Are you okay?” she asked after a hefty beat of silence, after his breathing had regulated. When his eyes found hers again, he watched them fill with fear. 

“I’m okay.” He felt steady enough to suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I’m okay. Fuck.” 

She watched as he rolled onto his side to dangle his feet over the edge, hunching his back over his bent knees. She heard the deep sigh and release of air from his chest as he brought his palms up to smooth over his distressed face, the worry and fear etched into the skin highlighted by the light of the moon. 

He reached down with one hand to grip the dog tag he wore around his neck on a simple beaded chain, a beacon for him to find ground. Absorbed into the thin malleable metal were the memories of each person he encountered overseas, the memory of every single death he saw, every death he caused. The words stamped, the last name Culpepper on bold display in the alloy of copper and nickel, reminded him of who he was, the kind of life he had and the kind of life he was once entrenched in. 

He wore the symbol of his service as a reminder that beneath the nightmare and the inner turmoil rest the still beating heart of a man who had put himself in harm’s way in the effort to serve and protect, and that fact alone worked to tame the monsters within that beckoned and taunted. 

He felt the steady hands and naked chest of Veronica as she wrapped herself around his torso in an intimate, almost loving, embrace, her fingers splayed out across the expanse of his chest just beneath his collarbone. She pressed a gentle kiss against his shoulder blade as he closed his eyes. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He considered her offer as the silence floated around them. It would be easy to tell her everything, to step into her wide open arms and expose all of the demons buried just beneath the surface of his skin, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to her, couldn’t give her his pain because there was this part of him that wanted to keep her whole and free from the holes of his mangled life that he desperately tried to plug with ice and wit. 

And there was a part of him that still couldn’t trust her, and the pain of that would kill whatever this was for both of them. 

They had ended up in her bedroom after their nap in the living room, too exhausted to do much more than gather their discarded clothes to toss onto the carpeted floor and crawl beneath the top sheet and fall into thick sleep. 

The warmth and comfort of her body resting beside his filled him with a new sense of ease, it had nearly escaped him that they were laying in the same bed that she shared with another man. Now that his demons had come out to play, it was all he thought about, another unwelcome vision disguised as a blessing, distracting him from the nightmare that had been playing through his head in sleep. Everything in his mind was suddenly cloudy. 

He shook his head and released the dog tag. “No. Not tonight. I need a cigarette.” 

He kissed her arm softly before he stood, breaking their contact as he stepped across the space of her bedroom to the balcony door. He reached down for his jacket, set on the floor by the balcony door, and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from an inside pocket. Still naked, he threw open the wide glass panels and stepped out into the cool night air. 

Veronica fell back from her perch on the side of her bed, resting her ear on the pillow as she watched him light a cigarette and take a shaky drag. Though he was stark bare and sexually appealing, she was drawn to how strong he looked in the light of the night sky. It wasn’t just his muscles flexing with every move, his forearms coming down to lean over the railing of the balcony, or the way his jaw clenched after each exhale. It was the power she felt surging through him pushing at the horror within, the fight she sensed with every push and pull of air into his lungs. 

He didn’t have to tell her what he dreamt about for her to get a clear picture of the terror he witnessed behind his eyelids, a horror film rolling scene by scene just for him. When the violent thrashing of his body woke her from slumber and her words brought him back to reality, she immediately felt the fear he felt as if it had jumped from his body to hers, his eyes bulging wide as his throat gasped for air. 

She wanted to pull him in, give him her strength, but from where she rest she could see he was capable of taming the war inside him, releasing the pain and toxin with every exhale of his cigarette. 

He inspired her in that moment, so strong and so independent but still so small at times. She never thought vulnerability could be so beautiful, could look so sexy on any one person. She spent so much of her life hiding behind the lie of who she was and who she wished she could be, free from the confines of what she knew. There was nothing for her in Manhattan other than the same old hat, the same black gown she wore from event to event. Nick was too consumed in his own dreams, too lost in his own forward progression that he neglected hers. 

At first, it bothered her that he rarely asked where she went each weekend. Every now and then, he would suggest they go off on a trip together, but normally those were quickly replaced with excuses about some business meeting over drinks or a trip to London for some international venture she cared nothing about. Randomly, she would have to give up a night of her weekend at the Wyrm to attend a gala with him, and he would do his best to attend to her in the way befitting someone of his station, but there were no deep conversations, no midnight laughter over coffee or champagne. She grew tired of caring and stopped bothering to give him excuses about where she was going. 

As she stared through the open doorway at Sweet Pea, she saw a different kind of future, a different kind of man – one who would ask where she was going, even if it was a quick trip around the corner to the market. He was the kind of man who would seek her out, wrap her up in his eyes from across the room to cocoon her from any danger, from any thought that he didn’t care. There wasn’t an ounce of him that didn’t make it clear he wanted her, wanted her time, wanted her body, wanted her mind. 

A life with Sweet Pea would be chaotic and not without its struggles, but watching him lean over the railing, his sinewy back laced with worry and pain but still standing tall, she pondered if it would be the kind of life she secretly craved – not easy but bound by the ties of love. 

Love. _Love._

Was that what this was? Was she in love with him? 

As she crawled out of the bed, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, she realized that’s exactly what this was. 

She brushed past the barrier of the doorway, joining him on the concrete balcony overlooking the city, still alive and wild at one am. She settled against the railing next to him, her eyes sweeping over the lights and the tops of the trees beneath them in Central Park. 

“Sometimes, when I need to remind myself that it’s okay feeling small, I look out from this spot over the city. I watch people walk across the street, tiny and in their own insular bubble, and I realize we’re all small to somebody, but that doesn’t make us less human.” She turned to face him, watched as he stared back at her with his eyes brown and rich with thought. 

“It’s okay to feel scared, Pea. It doesn’t make you less of a person.” 

He averted his eyes to the end of his cigarette, watching as the ember pulsed with a red and orange glow. He snuffed out the end on the railing and tossed the butt onto the floor, reminding himself to pick it up later. 

“What is it about you that makes me want to think? I don’t think I’ve ever done as much thinking as I have with you in my life. Everything you say, everything you do has me thinking.” He turned to look her in the eye again, but there was a light smile at play on his lips. “How did we get like this?” 

She grinned as she tapped her fingers gently on the railing. “It’s funny – I think we’ve being ‘doing’ more than ‘thinking.’” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I guess you’re right about that. This whole thing is just… different… for me. I’m kind of out of my depth here, Veronica.” 

She sensed his discomfort, felt the same level of unease there next to him where emotions began to swirl around them with the night breeze. There was a part of her that desperately craved answers to the questions she pondered about the status of their relationship, about what he wanted and what she wanted. She needed him to give her the reasons behind why she was so tethered to him, but one look on his face told her he was just as clueless as she was. 

The only option rest in the familiar, the comfortable. She took a step toward him, the black color of her hair sweeping across the milky coffee of her skin. 

“Maybe we don’t need to do any thinking tonight.” 

He perked up as she inched her way between him and the railing, his back leaning up to stand straight. She stood on her toes to press a gentle peck on his lips that melted into something more, something deeper, her arms floating up to cross behind his neck. 

He sank into the kiss, his palms crossing behind her to cup her bottom. He could feel the heat of her arousal pressed against his thigh and he felt the knowing twitch of his cock as it hardened with desire. 

She swept her tongue across his bottom lip, her teeth baring to trap it lightly between their grip, yanking gently as he moaned. She released his mouth as she slid down toward the floor of the balcony, settling gently on her knees, her mouth in a direct line with his stiffening length. She reached up with her hand to come up beneath, supporting his weight with the soft grip of her fingertips. 

She leaned in to take him into her wet mouth, her lips glistening for him to see as he watched her take him in fully. He growled as she bobbed back and forth on his length, the taut skin of his cock shimmering from her saliva under the moonlight. He could see her nipples were pebbled, saluting him as he towered above her, his control threatening to snap as the sparks of her teasing fired through his veins. 

She brought her mouth further down onto him, her lips pressing around his base as she felt her gag reflex struggle to activate, but nothing mattered as long as he kept moaning out her name in soft whimpers. When he tipped forward to grip the railing, his eyes fighting to stay open and watch, she smirked and pushed forward, increasing the pace of her sucking and swirling, doing her best to bring him to his knees. 

Looking down at her, watching him disappear inside the velvet warmth of her mouth, the city spread out at their feet, he felt like a fucking king. No one had ever made him feel so incredibly appreciated the way she did, putting aside her worries to make him feel wanted, make him feel like a man, her body meeting his beat for beat each time they came together. 

There were parts of him that he wanted to stay hidden, tucking them away in the dark corners of his mind, but she brought a new kind of penetrating light that reached those areas he kept locked away, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt the spark of hope. 

He had to show her just how much she meant to him, even if he couldn’t find the strength to say the words right now. When she comforted his shaking heart after he awoke from the nightmare, nothing soothed him more than the sound of her voice, the warmth of her body pressed against his in an embrace only she could provide, and he knew deep in his heart there was no else for him but her. 

Telling her he loved her would be difficult, and he hadn’t really considered the validity of that statement until that very moment with her brown doe-eyes looking up at him, now void of innocence but filled with strength, the look of a woman who had faced her own demons but was powerful enough to cast her fears aside to soothe him and build him up into the man she knew he could be, the man she admired. He wanted nothing more than to be that beacon of strength and control for her, wanted to fight against the shadows and slay the beasts in his mind so they could rule together – a damaged king, no longer tortured, standing beside his queen. 

He reached down to palm her cheeks with his hands, guiding him out of her mouth and gently pulling her up to stand in front of him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before his hands slid down to her waist, spinning her around so she could face out at the city beneath them. 

One of his hands on her waist traveled up to guide her hand to the railing while his other palm smoothed a line down to her bottom, cupping her ass cheek before his finger slid beneath to dive into her wet center. 

“Eyes forward, baby. I want to fuck you just like this.” 

She planted both palms, sweaty and anxious, against the railing, her brown eyes sweeping across the view, the lights twinkling around them like stars. She felt the tip of his cock breach her opening and push past the wet folds into her tight entrance, thrusting soft and slow. His hands came up to cover hers on the railing as they fucked together, his knees partially bent to make up for their height difference, his mouth settling on the column of her neck to press gentle kisses near her pulse point. 

“Goddamn, baby. Your cunt feels just like home,” she heard him whisper heatedly against her skin, the little hint of emotion twinkling in his words like hope. 

Looking down at the city below, her body exposed to the public from several floors above, she wondered where her modesty had gone, flitting from the balcony like the feather of a bird, soaring away and away to leave her naked and bare. Feeling him deep inside her core, his thick length pulsing to life within her as he thrust his hips into her backside, she had never felt closer to him, their fingers intertwined as they gripped the railing for leverage. 

Power surged in the space between their bodies and in their joined parts, snapping like lightning with every push and pull of his cock inside her, with every pound that resonated within them both like thunder. In that moment, they were one union, standing tall above the monster of a city like two rulers over a kingdom of that never sat quiet. Though the bustle beneath them crackled with life, there was silence around their bubble of space, the only sounds between them the grunts from open mouths, the slap of skin on skin, the clanging of his dog tags, and the slick wetness of her arousal on his stiff length. 

“Pea,” he heard her whisper into the air around them and his grip on her fingers tightened, though not out of haste but out of sheer need to feel her wrapped around him, pulling their embrace closer in that joining of fingers. 

“You feel so good, Veronica,” he replied, his lips returning to her neck to nibble and tease. “Let me make you come right here, baby. Let me make you come in front of everyone.” 

She tilted her head back, resting it on the firm surface of his chest, feeling his heat and sweat nearly scorch her scalp. Her open neck, vulnerable for his mouth to consume, was soon covered in a series of kisses and licks as he moved from her collarbone up to her earlobe, sucking on the sensitive cartilage there until she was groaning out, filling the large balcony with the tortured sounds of their fucking. 

He kept pounding into her from behind, one hand releasing hers to snake up her torso to find her breast, nipple perky from the breeze. He fingered the pebble lightly between his thumb and forefinger, his palm softly caressing the soft underside of her breast, eliciting another round of moans and soft whimpers from her lips, the telling signs of her climax on the horizon. 

“You want to come for me, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” she whispered. 

“You want to feel me come inside you, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” she whimpered, her words sounding more and more desperate as his thrusts deepened, the angle of his cock finding that hidden cavern inside her pussy, driving her eyes backward into her skull. 

The last thing he heard was the hitch of her breath before he felt her walls clench and tighten around him, pulling his release from him one thrust at a time, the shiver of her pussy sending ripples of hot liquid from her core and down his length. He shot into her three times, his hand on her breast dropping to grip hers on the rail, both joined together in a flash of tight white skin stretched over knuckle bone. 

When they finished, it took the last bit of his strength to hold them up, pressing her body against the flat surface of the balcony wall. Together, they breathed as one, their bodies rising and falling with every passing of air, his hands still glued atop hers. 

“Shit,” he whispered, his mind clearing of the orgasmic fog swirling like a gray haze inside his brain. The sweat on their bodies instantly began to cool and he felt her lithe frame shiver beneath his. 

He placed one more kiss against her neck, this one quick and easy, the kind of peck you’d expect in gentle passing from a partner, and her heart took a steep lurch, feeling as if it had cascaded over the railing and down the several floors to the ground below. 

He slid out of her, his hands releasing hers gently. “Come on, baby. Let’s go to bed.” 

They both padded off the balcony and across the carpeted floor to crawl into her bed, his arms instantly coming around to curl over her body and pull her inward. She could tell his mind was still not free from the nightmare he had suffered earlier, his embrace a show of needing her strength, her sanctuary, and she leaned into him, offering her grace and her comfort. 

He took it willingly, their bodies mingled together in a sea of limbs and warmth, their dark hair and tan skin coloring the white pillows of her bed spread. As they drifted to sleep, the slow and easy slumber of his breath against her back, Veronica felt her heart fall out of her chest to seep into the sheets around them, cocooning them both in a brilliant glow of her love for the broken, fragile soldier there beside her. 

///////

Later in the afternoon the next day, long after they had slept off their post-coital glow from the night before and the lazy morning romp beneath her sheets, they found themselves parked at a bistro table somewhere further down the city closer to the docks. 

Sweet Pea had treated Veronica to a genuine dinner, their first official date that didn’t involve greasy burgers or prying small town eyes. They feasted on freshly caught seafood and cold beer, easy conversation light on their lips, and something in the air between them simmered like a soft breeze blended with a kissable mist. 

As Sweet Pea regaled about some club event where Fangs had ended up half-nude and covered in mud, his face lit up and his eyes sparkled, laughter rolling off of his lips in waves, and Veronica thought he had never looked more beautiful. 

Her heart began to tug more and more, pulling her down deeper as if it had taken a dive off the deck around them into the Hudson River below. How had she been denying herself for so long of the easy affection she felt between them right there in that moment? It was like a curtain had been lifted and there were no longer any barriers between them. All of the sex, all of the intimacy and late night talks, had finally culminated into this soft glow that hovered around them like a protective bubble. 

In the back of her mind, she knew eventually the idea of Nick would come along and burst the happy sack around them, but she pushed the thought aside, gave in to the desire to just feel the moment as it was, right now, with the beaming and affectionate man sitting across from her. 

As she shared her own stories about childhood pranks she had participated in during private school, he watched as the sea breeze wafted in off the shore to brush the soft whispers of her raven hair against her flushed skin, her beautiful radiance under the glow of the setting sun. She nearly took his breath away, but he found the air to laugh in return at her tales, his smile spreading from ear to ear. 

The way she gazed off toward the early evening sky as she recalled a particular happy moment, the way she fingered the pearls around her neck when her smile grew, the picture of a distant memory being repainted in her mind, all of it drew him in and trapped him within the web of desire and _love._

How was he ever going to survive without her? 

The thought made his chest ache, his heart beating like a drum against the cage of his ribs. The whole thing felt like his bike tipping over and skidding across the road, sudden and unexpected and painful. He hadn’t planned to fall the way he had but how could he not know it would be this easy, especially with her joy painted under the now bright lights of the restaurant above them. 

When they were finished eating, they went for another ride just off into the near distance, his Harley curving around the crowds of people crossing the busy city streets and the long rectangular storage blocks by the port. They parked just near the harbor, dismounting before they approached the shore line. 

He planted his feet behind her, the sound of his leather folding under the crisp evening air as he folded his arms around her torso. He pulled her in close, inhaling the scent of her perfume mixed with the smell of the sea off the port. Veronica tilted her head to nestle it in the crook between his neck and collarbone, her eyes softening and lids closing as she relaxed in his embrace. 

“You know, I’ve never cared about anyone like this. Being with you, being this close to you – it’s foreign to me. I’m terrified.” 

Veronica’s eyes flew open, the suddenness of his confession taking her aback. She straightened and turned her head to face him. 

“Why are you scared?” 

Sweet Pea wouldn’t meet her gaze, worried that if he saw the look in her eyes, he’d lose the will to finish what he had to say. These thoughts had been burrowing themselves in his mind for weeks, building a nest in his brain that he couldn’t shake out. He needed to tell her, needed to let her know how much she affected him. 

“I just – I have no idea how to act with someone I care about. I’ve learned from an early age the cost of trusting someone too soon, the pain you can feel with the loss of that person you trusted. I’ve gotten by through life surviving day by day, and I’ve made it a part of my M.O. to keep everyone else at arms’ length. Don’t get involved, can’t be let down. Don’t get involved, you can’t let anyone else down. Things are different now.” 

He finally turned his eyes to look at her and she could see the love there written in his rich brown eyes. “You and me, V – we don’t make any fucking sense. But you’re the realest thing I’ve got in my life. The shit that came before you, it was nothing compared to the ache I feel when I think about losing you.” 

She reached up with a warm caress and he could see the equal show of love reflected in her own eyes back at him. When her fingers brushed against his cheek, her palm coming around to cup his jaw, he closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. 

“Sweet Pea, I know things between us haven’t been easy and I know I come with the baggage of another person. The only guilt I feel is for putting you through the disappointment of knowing I go home to another man. But you have to know – the things I feel for him can’t even compare to what I feel for you. These past few weeks have been… amazing.” 

His eyes clenched tight as he fought against the anger he felt at the mention of Nick. “I can’t bear the thought of you two together in that apartment.” 

Veronica smirked lightly. “Is that why you’ve been so busy fucking me all over it? You’re trying to mark your territory?” 

Sweet Pea shook his head, releasing his hold around her to push back and stand a few feet away from her. “Veronica, I’m serious.” He began to pace, the frustration building throughout his body, evident by his tightly clenched fists. 

“I can’t stand the thought of him putting his hands on you, in you. When I lay in bed at night, thinking of your body on top of mine, I remember that I’m alone and you’re with him and all I can suddenly think about is him moving inside you. It makes my stomach sick and I can’t sleep. Thinking of him fucking you, coming inside of you – I fucking hate him.” He sighed, pausing his pacing as he stared at the ground. “And then I fucking hate myself.” 

She took a careful step toward him. “Pea…”

He held up a hand to cut her off, hearing the pity in her voice. “I don’t regret anything,” he clarified. “I don’t regret taking you home that night. I don’t regret coming here with you or walking into the Whyte Wyrm that first night I saw you dance. You were mesmerizing and I couldn’t get that image of you out of my head. I should have known then that I was fucked. But my life… well, it’s only gotten better since you danced your way into my world. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say. I have no idea where this is going, but I’m not ready to walk away just yet.” 

He dropped his hand and she took that as an indication to move forward, connecting with his body in a fierce hug, the bay breeze blowing her hair back behind her. “I’m not ready for that either, SP. Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?” She pulled her head back to smile at him. Her heart squeezed when he smiled back at her, one of the rare genuine grins he offered like jewels from the sea. 

She leaned in and captured his lips with her own, pressing into them with enough force he had to plant his feet for balance. His hands flew to her hair, gathering the thick strands of black between his long, thin fingers. Her hold around his neck tightened, pulling his mouth closer to hers as they devoured each other, tongues warring and exchanging unspoken words of love and lust. 

He lifted her up off of her heels, pressing her body tight against his as he walked her back toward the bike. He helped to prop her up onto the seat of the motorcycle, moving in between her legs as she straddled him. Their groping became rougher, their kisses more feverish as they made out under the setting Manhattan sun by the port. There were ships blaring their horns, the sound of waves crashing along the cement banks, but all Veronica could hear was the pop of their kisses and the low groan building in Sweet Pea’s chest. 

The warmth between her legs was growing, seeping through the thin layer of her lace panties, and she needed Sweet Pea inside her more than she could express. Having him open up the way he did, show his vulnerable side to her, someone she knew he trusted, it was the biggest turn on. Knowing she had brought the fierce and gruff Sweet Pea to his emotional knees made her feel like liquid gold, molten and powerful. There was no denying that there in his arms, there in his heart, she found what it was to be alive. 

“Let’s go home, baby,” Veronica prompted, the ache between her legs now boiling over. “I need you to take me home now.” 

Sweet Pea pulled back from her face, his eyes darkened with lust and his lips swollen from her assault. His chest was moving up and down, trying to catch his breath, utterly lost in her. He could read the same expression on her face, see the sultry message evident in her eyes and he nodded. 

They rode off with the sunset at their backs, whizzing through the streets of New York with the rumble of the motorcycle beneath them. Veronica wrapped her arms tighter around Sweet Pea’s waist as they made the turns through the winding city, pressing the side of her face into his shoulder in a loving embrace. 

When they parked, Veronica dismounted first but waited for Sweet Pea a few feet away from the bike, her hand extended for him to take. They walked through the garage and up the service elevator to her penthouse, their fingers laced for the entirety of the ride. At one point, Sweet Pea had pulled her inward against his chest, wrapping their intertwined hand across her body just beneath her collarbone. She could feel him lean down and press his nose into her hair, inhaling slowly. 

Her intoxicating scent initially drove him wild with an animalistic urge to have her, but as they stood in the elevator together in a lovers’ embrace, the words of confession spoken between them minutes before at the port, Sweet Pea couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy and care as he sniffed her in. Veronica smelled like a delectable mixture of rosemary and jasmine, the sweetness of the latter herb hitting him straight in the heart. 

Everything in her scent held her memory. The nights she came home to Manhattan and he was left in Riverdale, he’d turn over in bed and sense her presence there in the sponge-like material of the pillow she would lay on. When the sheets weren’t being washed, they held her familiar fragrance, and when he felt lonely and missed her, there he would find her and fantasize about the next time he had her there in his bed. 

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened for them to exit, they stepped out together, their limbs now untwisted from each other. Veronica reached back and found his hand, pulling him toward her front door. When she turned the lock and pushed through the entrance, she felt his arms wrap around her waist. 

He pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, surprising her. She had expected him to pounce, the heated exchange between them from before still pumping through her veins, but instead he continued to hold her and she felt a sudden wave of anxiety. When she pivoted around in his arms and turned up to look into his eyes, her anxiety was put at ease. 

He smiled down at her, another genuine Sweet Pea smile, and it took her breath away. His hand floated up to stroke her hair softly, his brown eyes glowing with a heavy dose of an emotion that frightened her. _Love._

“Let me make love to you, Veronica. Take me to your bed. Let me make you mine, even if it’s just for tonight.” 

The ache she heard in his last words had her nearly clutching at her chest, the outer lacings of sorrow just on the edge of his plea to give her the piece of himself she knew he wanted to give her in her bed. _A piece of his heart._

She felt like hesitating, but the answer came before she could stop herself and think. “Yes.” 

She threw her arms up to wrap around his neck and he lifted her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her back to her bedroom, now familiar with the layout of her apartment, their lips pressed together in a gentle embrace. 

When they entered her room, he crossed to the king size bed in the center and laid her down gently upon the duvet. When her back hit the bed, her limbs unwrapped from his waist and she arched her back, her hands coming up to smooth back her hair as she watched him undress, yanking the hard leather of his jacket down his arms and onto the floor. She bit her lip as he pulled at the top hem of his shirt around the collar and swept it over his face and the sexy mess of black hair that gave him that unruly look that he deserved. 

She leaned upward on the bed, reaching out to smooth the jagged lines of his abdomen with the tips of her fingers, trailing downward below his navel to the silvery scar there – a war wound that marred him for life. She pressed forward and placed a gentle kiss across the silken surface, feeling him tense up and relax under her lips. 

“V…” he whispered and she could hear the longing in his voice. 

She looked up and got trapped in the web of brown in his eyes. “Touch me,” she murmured, licking her bottom lip hungrily. He made quick work of her jeans and panties, slipping them from her skin in a considerable manner that took her by surprise. 

He towered above her as he leaned in, his hands coming down to lace with hers. His mouth came to her neck, his tongue tracing around the edge of her pearl necklace, nibbling at the skin there with heated licks and teeny nips of his teeth. 

“More, SP,” she responded, the plea in her words beginning to deepen. One of his hands left hers, traveling to the bottom of her shirt and slithering it upward toward her chest. When the hem reached above her breasts, his mouth left her neck, curving down to place a series of kisses on the rising skin above her cup line. His tongue dipped beneath the fabric to find the thick pebble of her nipple and he lapped at it teasingly, eliciting a soft moan from Veronica’s lips. 

Sweet Pea sat up to help her peel the top from her body, gazing down at her breasts still covered in her simple mauve bra. His eyes danced back and forth between her chest and her eyes, the message clear – _take it off._

Veronica reached behind her to unclasp the garment, but before she could remove it fully, Sweet Pea sloped down with his mouth and pulled at the fabric with his teeth, half-exposing one of her breasts to him. His lips traveled back up to her nipple and he pressed a gentle kiss there before his tongue darted out to tease and excite. His lips folded over her peak, sucking her in lightly while his tongue worked over the hardened bit of skin. His hand came up to stroke and squeeze her other breast, his caress surprisingly light and considerate. 

She let out a soft purr as his mouth worked its way from one breast to the other, the bra drooping low over her chest. She tried to wriggle it off of her forearms where it dangled, but Sweet Pea held her still to the bed with his elbow, his tongue going to town on her wine-stained areola and its pebbled counterpart. 

Veronica relented to his hold, her back meeting the soft surface of her bed as she relaxed into the sheets and the feel of his warm lips pressing soft kisses and tugs against her skin. Her hand came up to sweep through his black strands, carding them through her fingers gently, lovingly. 

In the dim light of her bedroom, as the setting sun cascaded around them in shades of orange, pink, and purple coming in from her floor to ceiling windows, Veronica found herself wishing she could stay in this moment forever – pinned to the bed under the willing lips of her lover. 

Her nights, mornings, or even daytime romps with Nick were never like this. He never made her feel this simultaneous cocktail of powerlessness and totally in control. Each time she fell into this sexual beat with Sweet Pea, he awoke in her this gust of air that tasted like freedom, coming close to the way she felt gliding across the stage in her glittery costumes and unapologetic nudity. Nick never made her feel alive, the dull way they moved under her sheets a stark contrast to the push and pull she felt when Sweet Pea was inside her. Her and Nick moved together like a static machine, devoid of any passion beyond the interest of getting a job done. When she and SP fucked, it was like waking up from a sleep she didn’t know she had been trapped in. 

Sweet Pea slipped the bra from her arms as his lips released her nipple, his dark eyes traveling up to meet hers and in them she saw a single wall fall, unleashing another burst of power within her that she never felt with Nick or any other man that she willingly invited into her bed. Veronica had never seen true vulnerability come alive before her, and to know she was the cause behind this hardened man’s softening made her heart metaphorically grow ten times in size. 

Her hand slid down from his locks to trickle along the side of his face, pressing her palm gently into his cheek. She wanted to call out his name, wanted to tell him how she felt in that moment and how special everything felt between them, _how perfect,_ but she couldn’t find her breath, choked back by the fear she felt at the thought of giving away too much. They had grown so close so soon, but there was still so much of their relationship cloaked in the defenses they set up between each other. To see that wall in his eyes fall before her, it gave her that boost of hope that there could be so much more than this dancing around emotions act that they performed, but still there was fear. 

_Fear of being open. Fear of being a part of something. Fear of losing it all._

Sweet Pea leaned forward and captured her lips in a bone-melting kiss, turning her insides liquid with want. She pulled him forward with her cupped hand, beckoning him to rise above her and press his taut body over her exposed breasts. 

She wanted to hold him there, trapped between her hands as their lips wove like silk together, but the fluid movement of his hand traveling up the bare skin of her thigh caused her body to go slack with overwhelming desire, releasing his face as her body melted further into the bed. When she felt his finger slip inside her, draped in the warm fluid of her arousal, sliding in and out with a torturous rhythm, she closed her eyes and gave in. 

There were no words spoken as they continued to move against each other, body clashing with body like waves crashing onto the rocks of a cliff, Sweet Pea’s hips rolling with her own. Her arms floated up, reaching behind her hand to grasp hold of the sheets for leverage, gripping onto them tightly as she felt the first ripple of an orgasm surge through her body and trickle down her channel onto his thrusting finger. 

When she was finished, he didn’t stop, urging her body on for round two. When it delivered, a rebound snap from her first series of tingling and crackling, she cried out his name beneath the shadowed cloak of her bedroom. 

When he slid his finger out of her, she felt his hands grip around her waist as they rolled, her hips landing atop him as she gathered the energy to rise above him. She finally was able to slip the bra fully from her chest, tossing it gingerly across the room with little thought. When their eyes locked, his searching deep within hers for peace and release, she felt the power careen into her like a freight train. 

She rolled onto him, the strain of his arousal pressed against his jeans striking her core like a bolt of white hot lightning, and she tossed her hair back, exposing her neck to him in a sign of vulnerability. She felt him lean up to capture the skin there with his lips, his tongue darting out to soothe the nick of his overzealous nipping. His arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her body close to him as they rode out their desire to the beat of a silent song. 

Veronica felt the coiling of her arousal begin to twist inside her again, and everything in her body ached for him – her core, her head, her heart. She needed to swallow him whole, envelope him into her soul, feel him become entirely part of her, even if it was just for tonight. 

“I need you,” she whispered into his ear, and it didn’t surprise her that he just knew what she meant, bringing his lips up to press against hers before he released her from his hold. She crawled off of his lap, her hands gliding down his body to find the front seam of his jeans. He settled back onto the palms of his hands as he watched her pop open the front button and pull down the zipper, tugging at the denim with a firm sweep of her hands. 

Once again, she praised him for being bare beneath, his cock springing out for her to admire. She bent forward to press a single kiss on the tip, languishing in the soft groan that escaped his lips, before she continued upward to meet him face to face. They crashed into each other as her legs scaled the edge of the bed to ascend into his lap once more. 

She positioned herself above him before sinking back down onto his hard and hot length, taking him in slowly inch by inch, their collective moans gathering in the cavern of their conjoined mouths. His hands pressed against the small of her back, pushing her forward into his chest as they created a rhythm entirely their own. 

Her palms pressed down onto his pecs and beneath she could feel the hammering of his heart, the cadence of his affection for her pulsing through his body like a wave of pink and red passion. It only drove her further, pushing down onto him with a careful frenzy, just holding back enough not to fly off the cliff, though getting daringly close to the edge. 

His hands swept around grip her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as his head tipped back, bathed in the light of the moon from her bedroom windows. He looked glorious beneath her brown eyes, the sight of him coming apart, body and soul, all for her, shooting through her chest like Cupid’s arrow. 

Their bodies rocked in tandem, rolling each wave, deepening the angle with every thrust until she saw stars. Nothing had ever felt this good, lost in the embrace of their most intimate parts – his length inside her, their connected minds, their joined hearts. 

“Veronica,” he muttered into the moonlight, his eyes suddenly open and searching for hers. Their hands found each other and their fingers interlaced, her body pressing closer to his, anything to be near him more. If they could have absorbed each other, he would have found a way. 

Her neck craned forward, her mouth finding purchasing with his neck and he groaned when he felt her hot tongue running along the length of his Serpent tattoo, her lips pressing against the insignia with feverish kisses. She could feel the thick thump of his pulse along the column, beating wildly with a rush of blood with every kiss, every touch, every thrust. 

He felt so thick inside of her, stretching her walls with the angle of his pumps, eliciting a series of small moans and whimpers from her mouth against his skin as he picked up his pace. 

“Oh God, baby,” she uttered, her eyes closing through the wave of pleasure that surged through her body, preparing her for the next burst of lightning through her bloodstream. 

“Give me everything, Veronica. I want it all,” he whispered into her open ear, his hot breath dancing along her exposed ear lobe, her mouth still hovering over his neck. As she felt the force of the orgasm shoot through her toes, past her knees, and straight to her core, she opened herself up and gave him what he begged for. 

He could feel her body convulse around him, her stomach arching in as her head dipped lower to press into the tousled sheets of the bed, her entire being rocked by her climax. Stars and sparks shot behind her closed eyelids, crackling like fireworks over the sea. 

He fought to hold back, not ready to give in as quickly as she, his heart preparing to take flight as he beat his metaphorical wings with every additional thrust inside her. He flipped her body onto her back, their hands still melded together, pressed against the bed as he kept himself above her, careful not to crush her with his weight. 

He wanted to watch her beneath him, possess her in the web of his limbs as their conjoined fingers framed her face. Her eyes, wide and rich, melted into his and he felt himself lose control, the fluttering of her sex around his cock driving him over the shore into deeper waters. 

“Fall with me,” she whispered, the sound barely audible over the slap of their bodies, but it was enough to resonate straight through his chest and directly into his heart. With one final push, one final thrust, he took flight into the sea and drowned beneath the dark and dangerous waters of his love for her. 

With her name breaking free from his lips with his last breath, his guttural groan and her sob of ecstasy joined together in a single euphoric cry, his hips rocking forward to spill himself deep inside her core. 

His body nearly collapsed on top of hers, but his forearms caught his weight, bracing himself over her, no longer possessive but more in sanctuary. He protected her and she could only hope he would protect her heart just as steadfastly. 

Together, they breathed as one, their bodies rising up and down together, chest flushed to chest. Her grip around his fingers tightened as she felt the tears well in her eyes, her sight glued upon the high ceiling above her bedroom, above the bed they had come together in, and her heart clutched at the most devastating fact that she was utterly and irrevocably in love with him. 

///////

The next afternoon, their goodbye was a somber one as she pressed one last kiss to his lips in the doorway of her apartment, wishing beyond measure he could stay with her one more night. 

Could stay with her forever. 

It seemed silly for her to feel so disappointed. They had found themselves completely attached the entire weekend, and it would be only another handful of days before she would dance her way back into his arms, but the fact became clearer with every moment they shared – every day they spent apart was a day she missed him more than the next. 

When their lips parted, his hand came up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as his dark brown eyes locked onto hers, his lips turned up in a gentle smile. 

“Until next time, kid. Thanks for the amazing weekend.” 

She thought he was teasing her, but a deeper look into his eyes showed he was being genuine, and she felt her heart squeeze even more, combined with the dread of missing him. 

Her hands tugged on the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him closer for just one more kiss. 

“Be safe out there,” she chided playfully. 

When he walked away, his towering form disappearing into the open elevators in her hall, she had to fight against every urge not to run through the shuttered doors and join him. 

Instead, she turned back into her apartment, the echo of the shut door locking her into a wide space that felt like a big white void. Everything felt empty and she wanted to cry, instantly wishing they didn’t have to be separate while simultaneously riding the high of their time spent together. 

She tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping to distract herself with a glass of wine and a round of trash television. When she heard the swift knock on her front door, her heart took a hopeful lurch. 

He came back for her. 

She raced to the front door, not giving a single care to the desperate way she flew across the room, and quickly untwisted the locks and pulled back the barrier. 

But when she opened the door, there stood another man, dressed in a blazer and dress pants, a bouquet of roses and a bottle of expensive champagne tucked in the clutches of his two hands. 

“Nick,” she uttered, her tone that of someone taken by surprise, and it unnerved her as he brushed past her through the doorway, not even bothering to mention how it had seemed she had been expecting someone else. 

“Veronica, I know I wasn’t due back in the city until Tuesday, but I just had to come and see you.” He crossed through the entryway and toward the open kitchen, carefully setting down the flowers and bottle of Dom. When he turned to face her stunned body, there was an expression of cool confidence littering his features, his brown eyes still and firm, his smile unwavering. 

“I realize it’s been a bit stagnant between us these past few months. I’ve been busy with this merger and have barely had a moment’s time to actually cherish the spare hours we get to share. Now that business has been taken care of, I realize there’s another matter of serious importance that I must address.” 

She rested her hip against the wall of the kitchen entry, hovering beneath the archway with her anxious hands balled together in front of her chest. There was something about his manner that felt different, more with purpose and less of the monotony he had adopted over the past year. 

“Being with you has been one of the greatest adventures of my life. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you come from an affluent family that works so well with my own. You and me, babe – we’re like a merger meant to be. I would be honored to spend the remainder of my years bringing our two families together under one roof.” 

And with those last few words, she felt her heart tumble out of her body, riddled like Swiss cheese, every compliment and every promise shooting through her like bullets to the chest. When he got down on one knee, a tiny velvet box clutched in this manicured hand, she thought she might faint. 

“Veronica Isadora, daughter of the amazing and formidable Hiram and Hermione Lodge, will you marry me?” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her life was wrapped up in one brilliant white Tiffany bow – the money, the privilege, the opulence of her family’s legacy the perfect inscription on the dull boring epitaph that left Veronica Lodge feeling dead inside. To escape, she dances, grasping onto her freedom as she moves across the stage of the burlesque club, The Whyte Wyrm, owned by former sorority sister Cheryl Blossom. One night, though, her world is turned upside down when she locks eyes with biker and former Marine Sweet Pea, and the vitriol they soon spew at each other only adds fuel to the flame between them. 
> 
> Both controlled by their own demons, both unwilling to relent to the way they feel, they stomp around their emotions, night after night, dance after dance. Sweet Pea has his sordid past, rife with memories of death and violence, but Veronica has her own skeletons, locked behind the walls of her heart, and freeing them will only prove that _she’s no angel after all._
> 
> Can these two broken souls that feel such scorn for each other give in to the heat between them, learning to keep the flames ablaze despite their differences and hostility for each other, or will their fire only serve to combust and burn out in the dark of night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, folks. The final chapter of "No Angel" is here and I can't tell you how bittersweet this moment has been for me. This entire process has been taxing, but I feel so blessed to have been able to bring my ship SweetVee their very own fic for the first time. I'm amazed at how many people fell for SweetVee, and if you want to see their public debut, please check out my other fic "Ouroboros".
> 
> I want to thank a few people in particular who kept me sane during this story and listened to my woes in private chats on tumblr. @youbuildmeupbeliever -- thank you for being so fantastic every single day and for never letting me forget how good this fic is and how good my writing is. I thought about giving up MANY times, but you wouldn't let me, yet you understood my need to take breaks and gather myself. You also mom'ed me enough when I needed to sleep and eat and I'm so grateful for your friendship. @rainystripe -- thank you for listening to my writer anxiety rants and my frustration with SweetVee in the fandom. You are a fantastic friend, an astounding artist, and I feel so blessed that you continue to draw for SweetVee and credit me with their creation. I never imagined this story would bring me closer to so many wonderful people that I had previously respected from afar but never had the gall to speak up to. @mayberrry101 - S, not only did you give me heaps of fantastic advice, but your continued support means so much to me. I respect the Hell out of your writing and I'm just blown away that you respect mine just as equally. I can't believe you want to collaborate with me, but we're going to do it and we're going to blow people away! (Coming soon to scorch your face off, folks!). @DireStark -- you never let me forget how much you admire and respect my work and that kind of fandom love just can't be found anywhere. You're encouragement is a true treasure and I value you beyond measure, so thank you! And finally @bugheadotp -- thank you for not only always being the first person to comment, but for all of your DMs to remind me how much you loved my updates. That kind of shit is good, good shit and it keeps a writer going. I couldn't let you down and scrap this project! 
> 
> I will put the summary for my newest SweetVee fic in the bottom notes for those interested, and please stay tuned on tumblr for more updates and coming soons teasers and and for the soundtrack listing to "No Angel".
> 
> Finally, THANK YOU for giving me your love and your time. This fic will forever hold a special place in my heart, and you all with it because your encouragement and comments kept me going. So thank you thank you thank you!!!
> 
> I do not own the rights to the Archie Comics or Riverdale, and the content of this story is strictly from my own imagination. 

The afternoon was gloomy, a fine sign of things to come as Veronica strolled through the front doors of the Whyte Wyrm. Inside, the main lights were still on as Cheryl flitted from table to table, rearranging chairs and sorting through centerpieces to manage as much as the original prestige as possible for the interior. The night was closing in, another three hours before curtain went up, and Veronica could feel the entire environment sink inward like a hole in the ground.

 

It had been a whole week since she had seen Sweet Pea, since she had been proposed to by her long-time boyfriend. _Since her world came tumbling down_ _._ And still she had no clue what she was going to do.

 

With each hour her mind spun, the war between Pea and Nick plaguing her thoughts like a smoky black haze, she waffled back and forth between each guy, the list of pros and cons growing with consideration for both players involved.

 

A life with Nick would be simple, one she was used to, one that required less adaptation. She didn’t foresee any immediate changes in his routine, so she didn’t expect she would have to make any adjustments in her own plans to dance in the near future. She could still have her hobby, have her freedom there, but for how long and at what cost?

 

With Sweet Pea, she had something she could recognize was uniquely rare, a gem uncovered by thousands of grains of sand blown away by a freak wind storm. He had come into her world and rattled everything up -- a true core shaker who made her feel more alive than she had felt in years. But what would a life with him look like? What _could_ a life with him look like?

 

As much as his presence thrilled her, it scared her just as equally. Within that 6’5” frame of his stood mountains of pain hammered down into the core of one man, yet still he stood tall and mighty, his demons at bay for the most part, and that kind of power frightened her, intimidated her.

 

Veronica wasn’t used to staring down the worst parts of herself like Sweet Pea did on a daily basis. This man had seen true fear, had looked death in the eye -- how could she even begin to compare when her world had been nothing but glitter and gem from birth?

 

With Nick, there was the comfort that the world they shared was the same for them both -- superficial, surface, and glossy. With him, she knew exactly what to expect and even if that made life boring, it at least made it easy to navigate.

 

If she threw all of that away to cross uncharted land with Sweet Pea, she worried she’d be too busy drowning in all of the change to actually survive.

 

Cheryl clucked her tongue as she pulled a rag from the back pocket of her work jeans, smoothing the surface of one of the table tops with a hard scrub.

 

“Damn smudge just won’t go away,” she hissed as she rubbed harder.

 

Veronica was still carrying her bag of costume pieces but she searched around for a bottle of cleaning solution she knew Cheryl would have kept stashed nearby.

 

“Where’s the cleaner?” she asked, dropping her bag on top of one of the bar stools.

 

Cheryl shook her head as she removed the rag from the table, her following pose clearly one of someone who had given up.

 

“Don’t bother. I’m just going to cover it with the tablecloth.” She huffed, one hand on her hip, and turned to survey Veronica’s appearance.

 

“You look like shit.”

 

Veronica sighed, running a hand through her glossy black hair. “Yeah, well, I feel like shit.”

 

Cheryl tilted her head in question, but pulled up a chair at the table she was standing by and situated herself on the cushion. She pointed to the chair beside her.

 

“Sit down. Let’s dish.”

 

Veronica hesitated, not quite sure if she was ready to vocalize her troubles to her best friend, but she joined Cheryl at the table, the squeak of her flats against the flooring echoing around the room like a cannon.

 

She felt like she was doing a death march. Once the word was out that she might possibly be engaged, there was no turning back. She’d have to make a decision.

 

There was a great part of her that feared how Cheryl might react. _Would she grin and say “I told you so”? Would she scold? Would she get that harrowing look of pity over the red sheen of her lips, her mouth turned downward in disapproval?_ Veronica feared the worst.

 

Veronica settled into the chair, her hands folded gently over her lap as she watched Cheryl lean into the cushion and cross her legs.

 

“What’s going on, gorgeous? Why do you look like you haven’t slept in days?”

 

Veronica let loose a deep sigh, gearing up for big news. Before the words could escape her lips, she felt the tremble begin to spread in the tips of her fingers, and Cheryl placed a calming hand over the back of her palms, her face displaying genuine concern.

 

“Honey, what happened?”

 

Veronica cleared her throat. “Nick asked me to marry him,” she muttered, biting the bullet and letting the words fly from her mouth in a single, sober tone.

 

Cheryl was silent for a good minute, her eyes giving away no particular expression, and Veronica was preparing for the onslaught of relationship advice and unwanted chiding. Instead, the redhead tossed back her hair with her free hand and took a big inhale through her mouth before saying the three words Veronica wasn’t expecting her to say.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Veronica’s eyebrows raised in genuine shock. Though Cheryl was a friend she considered very dear and very compassionate, her ability to rub salt into a wound was one of her best attributes, and the fact that she was choosing not to dig a point into the ground when she could was the biggest surprise of all.

 

“I’m not quite sure how to answer that,” Veronica replied, though the weight of her confession had already lifted a bit of the burden from her shoulders. It felt good to finally tell someone about her predicament. “I never expected my life to become this complicated.”

 

“Well, of course you didn’t. You’ve been living the same life for the past several years, V. How in the Hell could you have expected yourself to meet anybody that doesn’t fit into the neat little box of your shiny Manhattan life?”

 

The bite of her words was familiar and Veronica thought with a sigh, _there’s the Cheryl I know best._

 

At the very least, she knew how to handle this version of her friend.

 

“It’s not just that I met Sweet Pea. It’s more than that.” She released her hand from Cheryl’s comforting grasp and raked her shaky fingers through her hair. Her eyes floated up to meet her friend’s and there she finally saw pity. “I’m in some real fucking trouble here, Cheryl.”

 

Cheryl nodded her head gently, the language of girl speak transferring from Veronica’s lips to her own mind as she realized the extent of the wreckage that her friend was faced with.

 

“I think we need a couple of cocktails for this.”

 

The bar owner rose from her chair and clicked her heels across the seating space toward the bar. She set two glasses on top of the bar surface and began to mix two separate liquors into a metal shaker glass. After adding a dash of lime juice to the concoction, she sloshed the mixture around with a hefty few flicks of her wrist before pouring the liquid into the cocktail glasses.

 

She brought them both around the bar and back across the room, handing one to Veronica who peered at the glass with curiosity.

 

“What the Hell is this?”

 

“It’s a kamikaze,” Cheryl replied, settling back into the chair across from Veronica. “It seemed fitting.”

 

Veronica sighed again, her lip turning up into a smirk as she took a sip. _Cheryl wasn’t wrong,_ she thought. _This whole damn thing had been suicide from the start._

 

After swallowing down half the glass, the sting of the liquor permeating her senses almost immediately, Veronica leaned back into the chair as she prepared to fill her friend in on the tangled whereabouts of her mind.

 

“I really care about him, Cheryl. I never imagined for a second I would feel half the shit I feel for Pea that I do. This… this thing between us is all electricity and flame and when I’m around him I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. But I barely know him. What kind of life would I be giving all I know up for? Is it worth saying no to Nick?”

 

Cheryl’s shoulders shot back quickly, a quick jolt of realization hitting her in the chest. “Wait, you haven’t given him an answer yet?”

 

Veronica shook her head. “How could I? I still have no idea what I’m going to do. I love Nick but I’m --”

 

“In love with Sweet Pea.”

 

Veronica tucked her tongue to her cheek as she swallowed her words, grateful Cheryl had said them for her.

 

“But honey, I thought you said you were unhappy with Nick?”

 

“I am, but at least with him I know what to expect. He’s predictable. He’s accountable. He’s the same Nick he’s been for the last two years and I don’t see him changing.”

 

“But what kind of life will that be for you, Veronica? That sounds a lot like purgatory to me.”

 

“But it’s dependable. Nick may not be a core shaker, but at least I can count on him for that.”

 

Cheryl puckered her lips in thought and Veronica could tell she was tiptoeing around a line she had been trying to dodge.  

 

“V, you know I love you and our friendship has lasted long enough that I think a little disagreement about our life choices won’t cause irreparable damage between us, but I have to let you know what I think.”

 

Cheryl took another sip of her cocktail and let the words spill.

 

“I think you’re scared of getting hurt. You’re scared of giving in to something you know might be good for you on the off chance something horrible might happen. You’ve always been the girl who had to know what was right. You’ve always been that way, even when we were in college. You had to be the one with all the answers, and it just kills you to feel like you have no idea what’s going on. Your parents are absent. You go out of your way to prove time and time again that you are worthy, but it will never make a difference. Hiram and Hermione will never see you the way you want them to. They’re always going to put you in a little box and by staying with Nick, you’re pretty much burying that box in the ground. You’re cementing that image they have of you in their minds for good and there will be no way to dig yourself from that hole. The vows don’t lie – ‘til death do you part.”

 

She took another sip and Veronica continued to sit back and listen, knowing her friend wasn’t finished. It would do no good to cut Cheryl off. She’d make her listen one way or another.

 

“I made my own set of vows one day with a woman I thought brought me joy, brought me satisfaction. I thought she made me happy, but what I see I did now was replace complacency with the word ‘happy,’ and I got fucked over because of it. Josie cheated on me. She sought comfort in the arms and the heart of another and there’s that vow again – death nearly parted us because I just about died from the heartache. But now my blinders are off and I see what was missing from our relationship. I see now I have a real shot at actual happiness and love with someone I genuinely care about, someone who doesn’t make me flinch when she shows up at my house at odd hours of the night because I know she’s coming to see me and not coming home from seeing someone else. You have that shot, too, Veronica. I see the way Sweet Pea looks at you. Hell, this whole damn club can see it.”

 

She chuckled lightly before continuing. “He terrifies the customers, and I’d have his ass kicked out permanently if I didn’t think he could make you happy. But he does, and he could, I think, if you just let him.”

 

Veronica sighed, swirling her cocktail around in her glass. “I wish it were that simple, Cheryl. I wish I could bank my future on your words and your advice, which I’m grateful for, but at the same time the circumstances are not the same. I feel like a colossal bitch stringing the both of them together like this. Sweet Pea didn’t deserve to be dragged into this, but Nick didn’t do anything heartless either. How could I do this to them?”

 

“Heartless takes on many definitions, my dear. And no, he may not be a cruel man, but living without fulfilled love sounds quite cruel, doesn’t it?”

 

Veronica nodded slowly before tossing back her drink.

 

“Just consider my words, Veronica. You’re a tough chick, and I’ve always admired you for that, but you need to do what’s best for you. Don’t think about the consequences of anybody else until you decide what’s right for you. What’s going to ultimately make you happy? What’s going to keep that pretty smile on your face?”

 

Cheryl’s words did their intended trick as Veronica’s lips turned up in a slow smile.

 

“There’s my girl.” Cheryl rose from her chair and gathered both of their glasses. “So have you told Sweet Pea that Nick proposed?”

 

“What the fuck did he do?”

 

The two women swiveled around to stare at the entrance of the bar to find they were no longer alone. Sweet Pea stood flanked by another Serpent and Toni, all three of them wearing expressions of confusion on their faces.

 

The dark skin of Sweet Pea’s face was pulled in tight around the mouth, his lips forming something between a grimace and a sneer, and she knew before it happened that he was going to turn around and storm out of the bar.

 

The squeak of her flats met with the pounding of his combat boots as they both raced out the front door of the Wyrm. When she reached out to grab his arm, he flinched and pulled away, his body yanking itself out of her reach.

 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he warned, and she balked at the heavy dose of rage in his words.

 

“Sweet Pea, let me explain –“

 

“The Hell I will. There’s nothing more for you to say. Your boyfriend proposed. Congratulations. Go buy a fucking bottle of champagne at the bar on me.”

 

She watched as he stormed off toward his bike, but she chose to follow in hot pursuit.

 

“I haven’t told him yes yet.”

 

He quickly turned around on his heel to face her, menace reaching every centimeter of his face.

 

“And why not? What are you waiting for? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

 

“You know this is not how I wanted everything to shake out.”

 

“No, you just wanted to have your cake and eat it too. Well eat up, baby. Bon appetite.”

 

“Pea…”

 

“No,” he cut her off, throwing one hand into the air before letting it land on his hip. “You know what just chaps my ass, Veronica? We had a magical weekend together back in Manhattan. I thought we were getting somewhere. I was finally letting you in because I thought we had endless time to figure this out. But still somehow, this guy I’ve never met before seems to find a way to one-up me anyway. How the fuck could I top this? How could I buy us more time now? I should have known better. Jesus Christ, I should have shown better.”

 

“I didn’t ask for this to happen!”

 

“You didn’t? What the fuck were you expecting to happen, Veronica? You’ve been with the guy for years. Your combined names are practically etched on your tombstones already. Did you not expect him to ask you to eventually be his wife?” The thought and the word made his mouth scrunch up in anger.

 

“I just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. He’s been so distant, things between us so stagnant. I thought surely he felt it too, surely he’d break things off if I didn’t.”

 

“Why the Hell would he? You’ve practically served yourself up on a silver platter for him – wealthy family, powerful name, gorgeous and strong and still so willing? How could any fucking man let that go?”

 

He spotted an empty beer can clanging across the parking lot and he kicked it with all of his might, sending the piece of trash several feet away to land in the middle of a side street.

 

“Sweet Pea, I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this.” Her hands flew up to her temples, her fingertips pressing into the skin there as a headache began to mount. “I can’t fucking deal with any of this!”

 

“Then don’t!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air again to drive his point home. “Fuck it all, right? Just wipe it clean from your memory, Veronica. Wipe me clean. Forget about me. _Please_ _._ Just leave me alone.”

 

She watched as he finished crossing to his bike, not bothering to strap on his helmet as he put the key into the ignition and brought the engine to life. Without another word, he put the bike in reverse before peeling out into the lot, soaring out into the street without bothering to stop for traffic – riding away from her and her shaken spirit and her trembling hands.

 

She wiped a spare tear that had fallen from her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of heavy autumn air. She had a job to do, still, and dancers didn’t make money with tear-stained cheeks.

 

She threw back the door to the Whyte Wyrm and found the strength she needed to get through the rest of the night.

 

 

<p>///////</p>

 

 

It was just after ten that night when Veronica had found herself parking her car outside Sweet Pea’s motel room. Cheryl had let her leave after her number, realizing she was in high need for damage control, and Veronica didn’t hesitated to escape, her worries mounting as Sweet Pea continued to ignore Toni’s calls and texts.

She reached out for the knob, wondering whether he had bothered to lock the front door, not entirely surprised when it gave way. She stepped in and took stock of the room around her, a chair upturned and a lamp broken on the floor. The leather jacket with the angry logo of the Southside Serpents glared up at her from a heap on the ground, fangs bared and eyes glowing yellow with malice.

She heard a hiccup come from another pile on the floor and it took her a moment to realize it was Sweet Pea, slumped hard against the wall beside the bed. In his hand sat the comfortable looking bottleneck of a half-empty Jack Daniels, the amber liquid swishing around as he brought the hand up to wipe his nose. His eyes were bloodshot and narrow, and it looked like he was breathing off a steady drunk as his chest moved up and down heavily. In his other hand was a lone cigarette, still burning at the tip but he made no motion to pull it to his lips for a smoke.

“The fuck are you doing here?” His terse tone immediately put her on edge.

She stepped further into the motel room, tapping at the upturned pole of the lamp with the toe of her shoe. “I came to check on you, though it clearly looks like you’re managing fine on your own.” The sarcasm dripped from her words.

“So funny – ha. You’re a Goddamn comedian, Veronica,” he slurred, gesturing to her with the hand that held the liquor.

“A real bucket of laughs,” she replied dryly, reaching down to pick at the shards of ceramic lamp base left scattered on the floor.

“Leave that shit there. I’ll pick it up myself when I can find the strength to get off this floor.” He stamped the cigarette out on the carpet beside him.

“Yeah, well, get ready because I’m about to throw your ass in the shower, buddy. You need to sober up.”

“The Hell I do,” he retorted, though inside he felt nothing but shame. “You don’t need to take care of me, Veronica. I’m a big boy, but I guess you already know that.” He hiccupped and winked at her suggestively, his eyelid moving sluggishly from the power of the drink, and she made a sound of disgust.

“You’re a fucking mess, Sweet Pea. I’m not leaving until you get in the shower.”

He stared at her hard, his eyes suddenly intent. “Are you getting in there with me? After all, that’s the only reason you ever come by here, right? A quick fuck? A good lay?”

“You’re disgusting, Pea. Now get up.” She was quickly growing tired of his shit, though there was a part of her that understood his venom. He felt wounded and she had been the one to bite first.

“No,” he shot back at her and she knew he was doing his best to get under her skin. One more irritating reply and she was going to let him.

She took a step toward him, bending down to yank at his muscled bicep, trying to lift him up from his position on the ground. He pulled his arm away from her, choosing instead to scramble upward himself.

“Don’t fucking touch me. I’ll get up myself.”

She sighed, but was at least impressed he managed that task alone. When he stood, he stumbled a bit to the right, but found his footing and righted himself with a quick sway of his hips.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Give me the bottle, Pea.”

“No.” He pulled it out of her reach. That didn’t stop her from pressing inward, her chest glancing off his as her arm extended to retrieve the Jack Daniels from his hand.

“Pea, I said give me the bottle.”

His arm pulled back even further before launching itself and the bottle forward, the bourbon dripping onto the carpet as the glass smashed into a million pieces on the opposite wall.

“There. It’s gone. You happy?”

She looked up at him, 5’4” of fuming form, her brow creased together in frustration. “What the Hell did you do that for?”

“You wanted the bottle, I gave it to you. Now that we’ve moved past that matter, you can finally leave me the Hell alone.”

“I told you – I’m not leaving until you take a shower. I’m not leaving you here in the state that you’re in.”

“I’m not getting in the fucking shower, Veronica, so stop trying to make me.” He moved away from her, choosing instead to cross wobbly toward the other side of the room nearest the bathroom, putting distance and walls up between them. “Why do you care so fucking much?”

She sighed, throwing her hands up in resignation. “Pea, you know why I’m here. You know I care about you.”

“Then why can’t you just tell me that you’re going to say no? Why can’t you say that?”

She didn’t answer, not quite sure what to say, but he finished the question for her.

“It’s because there’s a chance you’re going to say yes. It’s because you’re a coward that can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

She was starting to get angry, the hairs on her skin bristling, her shoulders bunching up in vexation. “You have no idea what’s going on in my head, Sweet Pea. You have no idea what I’m feeling right now.”

“Bullshit!” he shouted, reaching for the ashtray on the side table before flinging it across the room, landing sorely in a corner of the room behind her. “I know everything you feel. That’s what makes this whole thing fucked up, Veronica. I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Oh yeah? You think you know everything about me? Tell me how I feel. Tell me. Explain to me why I’m here, yelling at you to get sober, if I’m such a coward.”

“You fear anything that’s good for you, Veronica. You know what I can give you beats all of the other bullshit in your life, but still you won’t let go because you don’t want change. You’re content to live with a shit life, with shit sex, with no emotion because that’s what’s comfortable for you – am I getting anywhere close?”

He hit a nerve. Her teeth clenched, she reached for the nearest object, a black ceramic coffee mug, and threw it over his head. When it smashed to bits, she felt the full weight of her actions, and suddenly war had been declared.

“You’re a fucking son of a bitch, Sweet Pea. I wish I had never fucking met you.”

“You and me, both, sugar. You’ve ruined my life since the day you walked in.”

“ _You_ walked into _my_ life, asshole. I was perfectly content with the shit I had. I never asked for more than what I made for myself. You’ve tarnished every good thing I have left. You are nothing but an arrogant man who thinks he can do whatever to whomever with absolutely _zero_ consequences.”

“You’re no park to piss in either, princess. Everything about you infuriates me.” Together, they began to move in closer toward each other, each step punctuated with another round of angry words spilling like bitter ink on the battlefield between them. “When I look at you, I see nothing but a stuck up, snobbish, prissy pain in the ass.”

She reached for another coffee cup, its charcoal black pieces now strewn on the ground across the room. She had never been so furious in her life.

“You’re such a piece of shit. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting you anywhere near me. Putting those disgusting hands on me. You never deserved me.”

He grabbed a small potted cacti from the entertainment center, its innards soon on the ground as he flung the dirt-filled pot across the room, smashing it to bits. “Baby, I wouldn’t put my hands on _a delicate rose_ like you again if you begged me. You’re made of nothing but fucking thorns.”

She screamed in rage, grabbing a book and flinging it by his head. He ducked just in time, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened in fury. “You fucking ass! Don’t you even come near me!” but she continued to step toward him, their chemistry too vehement to ignore.

He took another step toward her, their bodies nearly colliding in front of the dresser. “You were just another piece of ass to me.”

Instantly, his words stung like a cut to the skin, carving away at her heart with every syllable. She reached deep inside her chest for her next insult. “You are nothing to me!”

“You are nothing to me either!”

In their black fury, they flew forward in the darkness, their bodies crashing into each other like a hurricane, lips beating against each other as hands pulled and tugged at clothing and limbs. Sweet Pea yanked away to stare down at her, their chests both heaving with adrenaline. Through his rage, he was inspired by her tenacity, and he could tell she wasn’t built for backing down.

It was one of the things he loved about her.

“This will be nothing but a hate fuck,” she stated, her eyes burning into his.

“You want to feel hate? I’ll fuck the hate so deep into you, you’ll go blind.”

Sweet Pea swept a hand over the dresser behind them, knocking off the loose change, cigarette packs, and another ashtray, its glass shards now on the other side of the room. Their lips crashed into each other again, his hands swiftly lifting her up to settle her on the corner of the dresser, her legs dangling off the edge. His hands then came up to grip her hair, pulling her face back for him to see.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, Veronica, and it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt you right here,” and suddenly his finger was pushing into her chest right above her heart.

She was fighting for air, her lungs burning. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, but she found her fighting words.

“Just fuck me.”

She felt another hard tug of her hair and she let out a scream, quickly silenced by the weight of his mouth on hers. His hands flung beneath her skirt, reaching for the thin band of her thong, ripping it down her leg until it fell to the floor in tatters. He released himself from his jeans, throbbing and angry, and he yanked her hips forward, opening her wide for him.

He slammed his cock inside her, so hard she let out another scream, and he began to pound into her, their bodies crashing so fiercely into each other that the dresser began to rock. She brought her legs up to wrap around his waist, purposefully digging the heel of her stiletto into the exposed part of his ass. He groaned into her mouth.

“That’s right, baby. Who’s fucking you right now?”

She refused to give in, remaining tight lipped as she turned her head to the side. She felt the grip of his palm around her throat as he directed her face back to his, and suddenly she felt a rush of blood pool down toward the center of her legs at the quick cut-off of oxygen. It was a rush she hadn’t expected would thrill her, her pussy becoming wetter at the feel of his dominance shooting out in the hand around her neck.

“Who’s fucking you, Veronica? Whose cock is inside you?”

“Yours,” she muttered with what little breath she had. “Fuck me, Sweet Pea. Oh God, just fuck me.”

Her head fell back, her hair cascading behind her like a river of midnight.

“That’s right,” he answered, digging into her pussy deeper with every hard thrust and flex of his ass. Her hands flew up to grip his arms, her nails digging into the bare flesh of his biceps, leaving behind crescent-shaped marks she knew would leave a bruise.

He released the grip around her neck and the whoosh of air that returned gave her a head rush, accompanied by a round of tingling that began in her toes and quickly shot through her entire system, a rich cry ripping through her chest, nearly taking her for everything she had left.

But still he wanted more.

“Who can make you come like this?” He pulled her hips closer to his, changing the angle of his thrusts to reach a new level of her gooey hot channel. “Who can make you feel this good, baby?”

“You, Sweet Pea…” she whimpered, the last of her resolve beginning to dissipate as the aftershocks of her orgasm rolled into her like a tidal wave.

“That’s right,” he replied, his lips coming down to kiss her neck before biting down hard, enough to leave a jagged mark in the flesh.

She cried out at the pain, but was amazed at the sensation of his tongue peeking out to soothe the wound, his resolve also starting to fade.

“Who can love you like this, baby?”

And instantly, she felt like sobbing, her body so wrecked and her heart so torn that exhaustion called to her. She felt the piece of her that she kept trying to hold close to the vest slip out from under her fingers, flying across the narrow space between their bodies into his heart. She knew it was bad news giving herself away like this, but she was tired of fighting the way she was feeling, choosing instead to take the night and love him completely one last time.

“You can, John. No one else.”

“Jesus, Veronica,” he breathed against her neck, “I love you.”

She felt her heart tug until it felt like it was going to fly out of her body. Without thinking, only feeling, she ignored her head and spoke what was in her heart.

“I love you too.”

With those four words, Sweet Pea found closure, thrusting into her one last time before he was spilling every last drop of his body and heart into her, the warmth of his arousal and the twitch of his cock bringing her to release again.

Together they clung to life, the dying breath of their relationship pushing in and out of them as they scrambled to find purchase with the ground. Veronica could only feel the surge of pain and heartache, her mind more twisted up than ever as she remembered how he had looked like a beaten down dog, but she knew she’d feel like the man with the rod if she left him right now.

And there was a great part of her that knew she’d only be hurting herself if she walked away. She needed this night with him. They needed it together.

 

<p>///////</p>

 

It was just after two in the morning when Veronica awoke beside Sweet Pea in the tangled mess of sheets on his motel bed. After their round of exhilarating and aggressive hate sex, they had stumbled into bed for another series of kisses and rough lovemaking, their bodies practically clinging to each other as she fought against the tears that beckoned and tugged at her heart.

He was still asleep as she looked up at the ceiling fan, watching it go round and round, and she wondered how many nights he had done this very same thing, laying beneath the covers as he stared at the ceiling above, contemplating the status of their relationship.

She knew her answer. She had known it the moment she walked into his motel room and found him folded like a crumpled drunken mess on the floor. Things between them were too complicated to be safe. The feelings they shared were too volatile for her to find comfort in security. She was going to tell Nick yes. She was going to accept his proposal and say goodbye to whatever this was, huddled together in the bed she was laying in.

The thought of saying goodbye to Sweet Pea broke her heart more and her face scrunched up, her body trembling as she felt the tears begin to build in her eyes.

She needed to get out of there before she woke him up. She needed to get out of there before she broke down and gave in to what her heart truly wanted – _him._

She did her best to slide her legs out from the covers, dangling off the side of the bed as she searched through the dark for her clothes as they lay scattered on the ground around her feet. Just as she was bending down to retrieve her discarded bra, she felt a firm, calloused palm settle on her lower back.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled through sleepy lips. She could feel his body weight adjust, turning onto his side to face her. She moved her chin to the side, craning over her neck to reply.

“It’s getting late, Pea. Cheryl was expecting me back at her place hours ago.”

“She knows where you are. Come back to bed.”

She could hear the plea in his voice, could feel the desperation in the space between their naked bodies. He knew she was trying to leave like a coward in the night and still he asked her to stay.

“Pea,” she whispered, but the rest of her words were cut off by the feel of his palm sliding up her spine, settling on the back of her neck where he caressed her muscles tenderly, brushing the strands of her black hair onto her shoulders.

“Please come back to bed, baby,” she heard him whisper back and she knew she couldn’t say no.

She’d regret it for the rest of her life.

She turned fully around and crawled back across the expanse of the mattress, her legs straddling his lap as she brought her lips down to meet his as he stretched up to meet her halfway. Their mouths pressed together tenderly, gentle tongue meeting gentle tongue, and each moan they shared was filled with the ache of the truth – she knew this was the last time they would ever make love and it ripped her to pieces.

His hands came up to caress along the sides of her ribs, his fingertips dancing across her skin in up and down strokes, smoothing the underside of her breasts in one fluid motion. His thumbs came up to softly press against her hardened nipples and she released his mouth, a soft sigh escaping her lips into the night air.

He held her breasts in his grasp as her hips began to roll over his hardened length, their grind slow and steady and familiar. He watched as she danced above him like a shadow, a ghost, and his eyes were desperate to drink her in, thirsty for every memory of how she looked and how she felt in case this was the last time he saw her so exposed and free to him.

The thought of watching her go had his heart squeezing in his chest, the first sight he was greeted with as he awoke with a sudden instinct to seek her out. He knew she had been trying to skip out silently, wanting to disappear without him noticing, and he felt instant shame. He had made a right mess of himself before she had shown up and he felt disgusted with himself. He had never intended for her to see him so damaged. _Or did he?_

He knew she’d come looking for him. The two of them were drawn together, each the moth to the other’s flame, and he’d be a stupid fool to think she wouldn’t care enough to make sure he was okay. They had argued at the Wyrm, but things hadn’t ended right there and he had basically given up, choosing instead to come home and drown himself in the one source of guilt that hurt almost as painfully as heartache.

Before she had shown up, he had stood in front of the mirror of his bathroom, stinking drunk and a fucking mess, his eyes blurry and red and puffy with tears he had spilled at the thought of her married to another man. He looked just like his father, a hollow shell of a man filled to the brim with guilt and booze and insecurity. His father had lost the love of his life and had fallen apart, and Sweet Pea was not far behind.

The sins of the father rolled over into the soul of the son and he hated himself more than he ever had.

He had contemplated taking his rage out on the mirror, cracking the surface with his fist to avoid another sight at his tortured self, but instead he took another drink and wallowed in the murky brown bottom of the bottle.

How could he ever expect Veronica to want to choose him when he was nothing short of a Goddamn train wreck? He knew her life in Manhattan was at least put together. Life with him was messy, the motel cheap, and the demons too many to list. How could he have ever sold himself a big enough lie to believe she would pick him over Nick?

But still he raged and acted like a privileged jerk, tossing her care for him back in her face because he thought he had the right to lash out. In a way, he knew he still did. They _both_ got involved. They _both_ made the choice to dive in and swim around in this cesspool of feelings, and her choice to end all of that gave him the right to feel pain, to feel hurt and neglected. But he couldn’t deny that she loved him too, and when she finally said the words back, he felt his heart close to bursting.

But now he had felt the sharp blade of doubt sink into his chest. Did she tell him she loved him out of guilt, out of fear of what he might do to himself? He knew he had looked unstable. Did she tell him she loved him out of pity?

The thought nearly killed him.

One of his hands released her breast to slide up toward the column of her neck where he wrapped his fingers around the skin gingerly, yet possessively. Even if it was just for tonight, she was his and he was hers and he’d make love to her in the softest way he possibly could – to say he was sorry, to show her he loved her, to make her remember.

“You’re mine,” he whispered into the dark, and he heard her moan in response.

“I’m yours,” she breathed through an open mouth.

“Kiss me,” he commanded and she leaned down to press her mouth to his own, his hand still clinging to the skin of her neck, curving around the column into a loving grip. Her own hands came up to cup his face and he felt the warmth of her love transfer from her lips to his.

In that single embrace, they both temporarily felt all of their doubt escape into the shadows around them, the bright light of hope glimmering in their shared lips and cupped hands.

Suddenly, she felt him begin to tremble under her caress, her lips parting from his to seek out his eyes in the dark. In them, she could see the weight of what they had come crashing into him, the possibility of losing all they had suddenly the scariest threat he had ever faced.

“I need you, Veronica. I need you,” he pleaded, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. It nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Oh, baby,” she replied, her lips pressing into his again as she pushed him back down onto the bed, her hands coming up to thread through his hair.

He flipped them over and pressed his weight into her, pining her to the mattress, as his lips left hers and began their assault over her neck, her collarbone, her chest, a man desperate to devour her before she evaporated before his eyes. His lips pressed a gentle kiss over her nipple before he suckled hungrily, causing her back to arch from the bed, her mouth to release another wild cry into the air.

His body continued to slink lower down the length of her body, his lips never leaving her skin as he skipped from inch to inch, pressing gentle whispers into her body as if leaving messages within her that she’d never be able to scrub off.

Her fingers continued to weave through his hair, tugging at the strands with every strangled groan that fell from her lips. When his mouth connected with her navel, tongue dipping in the little divot there to swirl around moist heat, she felt her core begin to pulse with longing.

His fingertips flitted down her skin to the patch of thin hair beside her lower lips, sliding one digit into the warmth of her sex before twirling her wetness into the curls there, teasing her.

“More,” she whimpered, awaiting the feel of his long fingers caressing her insides. He withheld what she wanted, though, as his mouth continued to taunt the skin just below her navel, nibbling at the flesh with puckered lips.

“More,” she begged again, louder this time, punctuating her plea with another grip of his hair in her hand. “I need to feel you inside me, Pea.”

Need. Need. They both felt so much need, it burned red hot like a poker fresh from the flame. His finger finally found passage from the opening of her core as he pushed inward, one digit after another, until he was two deep and pounding into her slowly, but torturously powerful. She could feel every twitch of his knuckle, every twist of his finger inside her as he stroked in and out.

“Jesus, Pea. I need it. I need you,” she sobbed, her head falling back as she felt the brink of an orgasm just around the edges of her senses. She couldn’t believe just a few strokes would have her coming so undone beneath him but the tension between their bodies, between their hearts had been mounting and it felt like her body was doing its best to release the pain, to purge the fear once and for all through the opening in between her legs.

But like the freedom from pain, her climax wouldn’t come, his fingers sliding out of her before she could reach her peak.

Before she could call out his name, her words were muffled by the sob that tumbled from her lips, caught in the heavy sensation of his lips and tongue buried inside her aching sex. She felt him lick one solid stroke up her slit and her spine shivered, goosebumps erupting all over her skin.

When his mouth connected with her clit, her toes began to curl inward as she prepared to fall apart beneath him, but still he fed from her, lapping up her arousal like a man hunched over a fountain.

She cried out his name in a series of harsh whispers as the orgasm made its slow ascent up her body, overcoming her entirely as she felt her eyes roll backward and her back lift from the bed in one fluid motion.

He continued to taste her, his tongue gathering her sweet nectar as it poured out of her in sticky warm waves. His dick was painfully hard and he wanted nothing more than to drive himself home inside her, but every second they spent in that bed brought them one second closer to the possible end, and he wanted to savor every moment they had together.

_Like it might be their last._

When he had his fill for the moment, he rose from the spot between her legs, his chest running parallel to her own as he watched her breasts lift and lower with every harsh breath she took, her body crashing down from her high like a woman without a parachute.

He gripped his erection, bringing the tip to her entrance, but before he pushed inside his eyes sought hers out, brown locking to rich brown – hope, despair, lust, and love swirling about in one giant storm.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, and she knew he meant don’t go from him, from Riverdale, from her life there with him and what life they could have together.

The desperation in his eyes, the controlled way he held his body from plunging into her, all of it slammed into her with the single swift fact that he needed her to tell him she would stay before he gave himself over to her, before they joined that final time.

“Sweet Pea…” She brushed a strand of hair from his eyes.

“Please, baby – say you won’t go. Not tonight. Stay with me.”

_Tonight. Forever._

She bit her lower lip and fought back from the tears that threatened to spill. She had so much to figure out, but tonight she could promise him what he needed – tonight, she could promise that she would stay.

“I will. I’ll stay.”

His lips found hers and they locked together just as he was sliding inside her, fit perfectly like a well-tailored glove, and they began to move with fluidity, easy and slow and familiar.

His arms buried beneath her back to cradle her against him as her own slung around his back, her fingers locking onto his skin.

Everything felt so wild and fantastic and alive, the air around them magnetic as they clung together, arms wrapped around backs, hips bumping into hips, their sex united and moving as one. Neither one of them wanted to let go, their grind less a physical move to get off and more an intimate dance that seemed to go on forever as they pushed and pulled together.

Sweet Pea lowered his brow to hers, their eyes still locked as their foreheads pressed together, sweat pooling in the areas where they shared flesh side by side. The air around them filled with the scent of sex and their cries and moans echoed around the room, but the only sense that mattered was sight as they watched each other cling to the memory of this moment together.

He wanted to shout his love for her, to scream it in her ear, but he knew the words would only fall on deaf ears. She knew the phrase, had heard it from his lips more than once, but he needed to show her in a way only he could.

One of his hands crawled out from behind her, reaching behind him to pry one of her own from his back. He fingered her palm gently, bringing the clammy surface of her skin to his chest, resting it on the heated flesh above his heart.

“I want you to feel me, Veronica, feel how my heart beats for you as I cum inside you. I want you to feel how much I love you as I make you mine.”

His request made her throat burn and suddenly there were tears she didn’t know were present cascading from her eyes. She nodded, willing her own orgasm to come so they could fall apart together in this moment of bliss.

She kept her palm pressed to his chest, feeling the fast beat of his pulse pound against her skin, recognizing the quickening rhythm as a sure sign of his own climax. Their lips found each other as the tingling of their bodies gathered like stardust and shot through their combined systems like rockets, bursting before their eyes like the formation of galaxies, glistening and bright and cosmically electric.

She felt his heart skip a beat as he called out to her, their orgasms overtaking them both, and she sobbed out his own name, her body suddenly wracked with a series of shed tears and quivering lips. He collapsed above her, their mouths joining once more in a heated kiss before they both fell apart and wept together.

An hour later, tears dried up and their bodies settled, they laid beneath the ever-spinning ceiling fan, a loose sheet settled over their waists, her fingers carding the thick strands of his hair as he rested a gentle palm on her thigh.

The air between them had grown thick with tension again, the fog of their lovemaking clearing out to make room for the unsettled questions that remained between them. Veronica wondered who would break first, but Sweet Pea beat her to the punch, going straight for the jugular.

“What are you going to do, Veronica?”

She knew he was searching for closure, needing her to tell him whether she planned to accept Nick’s proposal or not, and she knew she owed him that answer. He was tangled up just as deep in this as she was, and he had the right to know whether or not he needed to start moving on.

But she was selfish, wanting just a few more hours of him being hers – a few more hours to decide if her choice really was the right choice. Every second they spent together made her brain spin, the right answer switching behind a different closed door of her mind each time like a ball beneath three spinning cups.

“I need more time to think, Sweet Pea. I need to consider my options.”

He was silent but she knew he wanted to object, wanted to list out all of the reasons why he made a much better option than Nick ever could, but still he stayed quiet. The only sound that transpired was the soft whirring of the ceiling fan above them, blowing cool air through the heated haze around the room.

He wanted to shout at her, to shake her, to fuck her brains out and make her realize no choice would ever suit her more than he could. Instead, he exhaled slowly and tried patience.

“Why don’t you talk it out with me? You know I’m here to listen.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Pea. I think this is something I need to sort out for myself. I love two very different men and the reality of that is not an easy thing to swallow. I should have known better than to get involved without letting one thing go, or to commit to something when I was already tied to somebody else.”

“Hey, we both made the decision to get involved. I’m a grown man, Veronica. I can make my own choices and I chose to get buried deep in this mess with you. I told you before I had no regrets and I meant it.”

“But that was before Nick proposed. That was before my hand was forced and a decision needed to be made.”

“It had to come at some time, baby. We both knew this couldn’t go on forever.”

“I know. I just never expected it to get this complicated.” She paused as the weight of her next words hit her chest like a speeding bullet. “I don’t want to hurt you, Pea.”

She felt his arm rise from her thigh to wrap around her waist as he turned in, pressing his face into her side under her breast. Her hand came down to rest over his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes, and she felt the tickle of a soft kiss on her skin.

“I know you don’t, babe. Neither of us wants to get hurt.”

“What should I do?” She knew it was a dangerous question, but she couldn’t help but ask it, the words escaping her lips before she could stop herself.

He froze, his lips still pressed to her skin.

“I can’t answer that for you, Veronica, though I really, really wish I could. No matter how much I tell you I love you, no matter how much I shout at you that I’m the one you belong with, you have to make that decision for yourself.”

“I know. I don’t want to hurt Nick either.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Nick. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, baby. You’ve got to pick the choice that’s right for you. The choice _you_ think is right for you, even if it’s one I disagree with.” He lifted his head and met her eyes, both of them filled with sorrow as they sought answers from the other.

“But if you want my opinion, you should pick me.”

She smiled lightly, her eyes warming at the sight of him laying vulnerable against her stomach, his emotions now on full display, his heart wide open for their dialogue.

“Tell me why I should pick you, Pea.”

He smirked. “It’s not going to be that easy, Veronica. And if you need me to tell you, then you already have your answer made.”

She wanted to tell him again that she loved him, that she would always love him, but the weight of that truth would only serve to come crashing down like a bomb should she stick with her initial decision. If she chose Nick, these words she so desperately wanted to say would leave him in pieces like war shrapnel and he deserved to be as preserved and whole as she could possibly leave him.

“Just give me until tonight, okay? I just need until tonight.” And that was all the time she would allow herself. This needed to be over once and for all. She had been selfish long enough.

They spent the rest of the night clinging to each other as if it were the last dawn they’d ever see, and when the harsh light of day arrived, Veronica made her leave, slipping out of the motel successfully as he slumbered beneath the thin sheets of his bed, unsuspecting and, for once, at peace.

The guilt tore her up for the entire drive back to Cheryl’s.

 

<p>///////</p>

 

Later that evening, Veronica found herself painting on a false smile for the crowd as she weaved in and out of the seated customers, offering a flick of her hips or a series of batted eyelashes for the chance to make some extra cash. _To distract herself from the devastating decision she still needed to make._

She did her best to make conversation with stranger after stranger, but there was no comfort to be found there tonight, her mind running a mile a minute on matters that seemed more pressing than the delights of random men.

She could feel Sweet Pea’s eyes on her, hot and loaded with question, but she did her best to ignore his presence for the whole night, knowing he would ask her what her verdict was. Him or Nick.

And there was still a great part of her that just didn’t know.

After her number was over and she made another round in the main room, doing her best to delay the inevitable heartache that would come by nights’ end, she retreated back to her dressing room to shed the skin of another night. As she washed off the makeup from the evening, she felt like she was removing the last remnants of war paint, her body and mind exhausted beyond the point of fighting.

The end was near and she couldn’t delay any longer.

From behind her, she could hear the familiar stomping of Sweet Pea’s boots and she knew the time had come to be honest – he had come looking for truth and she needed to deliver.

She turned around as she sensed him coming closer, his presence dominating. She felt like turning back, but she couldn’t avoid the future anymore. She knew she was about to break his heart and she could taste the words like acid in her mouth, acrid and bubbling angry like vomit.

“Veronica,” he began, but she cut him off with a flash of her palm.

“I can’t, Sweet Pea. I can’t do this. I’m going to tell Nick yes.”

The air around them turned frozen, the glimmer of optimism on his face dissipating into ash. In its place sat anger, furious and fuming as his eyes turned black. She could see the tension in his shoulders build up, the space between his fingers shift and disappear as he clenched his fists.

“So this is your decision?”

_No._

“Yes,” she stood firm, her chin jutting out defiantly. She had to force herself to see this through or she knew she’d crumble at his feet. “It is.”

His eyes flitted across the room and she thought he was looking for something to throw, the fury coursing through him leaving his knuckles bone white and rigid.

He surprised her when, instead, he let out a long exhale. Still, she could see the stress there beneath his joints as he began to pace, one hand coming up frantically to grip and pull at his unruly hair.

“This is bullshit, Veronica. Utter fucking bullshit.” He turned to face her, but she was afraid to say anything else, her resolve hanging by a simple thread.

“Tell me why.”

“Why what?” she managed.

“Why now? Why him? Hmm?” He gestured with an angry hand between their bodies, the space between them the biggest she had ever felt, the distance mounting with every angry word he shouted and with every silence that came from her answer.

“I mean, fuck – what the Hell even was this? Huh? Who am I to you? Just some stud horse you could fuck to get you off? Do what he can’t? Was I just someone for you to bide your time with until you could land the rock that’s going on that finger?”

Suddenly, she found her words, willing him to understand. “Sweet Pea, that’s not what this was and you know that.”

He began to pace again. “Do I? I just don’t understand. Help me to understand, Veronica. How did we get from where we were to right here? I thought we were getting somewhere, Jesus!”

“Pea, I don’t expect you to understand – “

He froze, cutting her off. “Do you even really love him?”

She couldn’t answer. Instead, she tried to push him away. “That’s none of your business, Sweet Pea.”

“The Hell it is!” he scoffed, throwing his hands into the air before they came back down to grip his hips, the leather lapels of his jacket jutting forward as he leaned in for emphasis. “You can’t act like I haven’t been a part of this from the very beginning. We’ve been connected from the start. Don’t push me away!”

“You think this is easy for me? You think this decision didn’t come at some cost to myself?” She was tired of holding back, and she knew he wouldn’t disappear unless she gave him more reason to go than unanswered questions. She’d have to give him the answers she knew would make him fade out of her life completely.

“Pea, everything about this – you and me – has been… more than I could ever have imagined. But there’s nothing more that I can do. We both knew there was a line there that we couldn’t cross, and we crossed it. I can’t stand behind that line with you anymore. I don’t belong there.”

“How can you say that? How can you sit there and tell me all those weeks together amounted to nothing?” His voice began to lift, spitting out words with punctuation. “That last night meant nothing? I felt you, Veronica. I felt you fall for me.”

She shook her head, trying to fight back tears. “It’s not true. It’s not true.”

“The Hell it is!” He crossed to her then, stopping a few inches short of her shuddering body, her muscles trying to hold in the sobs that threatened to break from her chest. He reached out with his hand to point at her chest. “I’ve been inside you in so many ways. How do I get inside here? Huh? How do I find my way into your heart?”

“Pea – “

“Why can’t you just let me love you, Veronica? Damnit – do you know how hard it is for me to love anyone? There hasn’t been a single day where I’ve wanted to let anyone in – I just keep getting disappointed, keep getting let down by the people I’m told to trust. Ever since I met you, I can’t seem to push you out and I don’t want to. So here I am – standing, heart wide fucking open for you, just asking you to see what I’m doing and let me in.”

He stared at her as she stood frozen to the ground, her eyes wide with fear and pain. He took another shaky breath. “I’m asking you to let me in. _Please_ just let me in, baby. Let me take you away from all of this shit that is making you unhappy.”

“Pea, it’s not that easy…”

“How is it not? You don’t love him, Veronica. I know that more than anything. He can’t and doesn’t make you happy. He doesn’t deserve you – Hell, he doesn’t even know you, not like I do. I know you, baby, because you and me are the same. Still chasing down that road looking for more, never settling for less. Neither of us are perfect, but together we make it work, no apologies.”

She closed her eyes slowly, swallowing back the lump in her throat, before opening them back up to face him.

“Pea, I… I just can’t do –“

“Bullshit. I love you. Goddamnit, can’t you see that I love you? What more do I have to do to prove myself to you, Veronica? What more of myself do I have to give you for you to see that I’m the one you’re supposed to be with?”

His chest heaved, his mouth open as he fought for breath, and the rich brown of his eyes glistened with what she knew within her chest were tears, verging on escape. Her insides began to crumble, her heart pummeled into tiny little pieces as she faced her decision and felt everything between them come crashing down in a tidal wave of her own bullshit.

Why couldn’t she let her sad and pathetic life go? Why couldn’t she just walk away from everything she knew made her miserable and unhappy? _What the fuck was so wrong with her?_

She couldn’t fight back the tears anymore, allowing them to slip like gentle rivers down her cheeks. Her heart was cracking and combusting into itself, her emotions pouring into the wound of her heartbreak like hot, bitter blood.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, wanted to tell him that he was right – Sweet Pea knew her heart better than Nick ever could. However, the truth remained the same that Veronica was terrified of turning her back on the only life she had ever known, and all of these feelings she felt for Sweet Pea, while amazing and so incredibly exhilarating, were still too fresh for her to feel safe making a leap for.

“Veronica, what the Hell are you so afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted, the words ripping through her as the tears streamed down her face. “I don’t know why, Sweet Pea, but I’m fucking terrified. Can’t you see that? Why are you trying so hard to push me when I’m scared shitless?”

“Veronica…” he muttered, his voice cracking as he watched her break down in front of him. He stepped in to hold her, but she put her hands up in defense.

“Sweet Pea, I don’t… I can’t… You said it yourself all those weeks ago at Cheryl’s. Nothing about us, this, is simple. You’re expecting me to walk away from the only life I’ve known, from the people in my life who have been there since the very beginning. You’re asking me to turn away from my parents, turn away from the things I’ve grown accustomed to. You’re asking too much.”

“I’m not asking for all of those things right away, baby. I’m just asking you to _try._ ”

“And I can’t do that. I just can’t do that.”

They stood there, staring at each other in silence for what felt like years, and she could see the last shred of hope on his face fall apart in tatters.

The love on his face, the desperation and the plea, it all disappeared with a steely swipe as he stood straighter, cleared his throat, and scowled, his painful expression turning into that of a weapon.

Inside his head, he felt nothing but rage before he took the cold hard slide into numb. At first, he wanted to thrash about, to rip apart the furniture in her room piece by piece, shred her costumes and clothing and everything that she clung to in her miserable little haven at the Wyrm that he now pitied.

But somewhere along the way, meeting her had changed Sweet Pea, and he no longer wanted to give in to those urges. He wanted to be a better man, for himself, for her. He didn’t want to frighten or terrify her, tear apart her trust by destroying everything she had held dear. He had fallen prey to his temper too many times before, and all he wanted to do now was fade into a dark corner of his motel room and feel nothing at all.

“Fine. Have a nice fucking life, Veronica.”

With those final words, he turned and disappeared through the dressing room door, not bothering to close it behind him.

In an instant, she felt his absence, felt his loss, and she gripped the edge of her makeup chair, crumpling forward in a heap of tears and drowning sadness.

She had done this to herself. She had no one left to blame but the woman who looked her in the mirror now, old mascara running deep down her cheeks. She wanted to say she had fallen in love with someone she shouldn’t have, but that thought just didn’t seem right.

What she had done was fall in love with the right man who wasn’t right for her right now. Maybe he never would be and she’d have to continue to live the hollow life she led now, free of the passion and the desire and the _love_.

But none of that mattered in the face of fear, and ultimately – Veronica Lodge was a coward.

 

<p>///////</p>

 

It had been a full month since she had left Riverdale, Sweet Pea, and the Whyte Wyrm behind.

That last confrontation with Sweet Pea had marked the end of Veronica’s reign at the club, and she had told Cheryl the next night that it would be her final evening dancing at the Wyrm. To say her friend was upset would be an understatement, but it was the disappointment that killed Veronica the most.

Cheryl didn’t buy her excuse for needing more time to plan the wedding. Her long-time friend could see straight through her bullshit and didn’t hold back, telling Veronica in the dimly lit area of her dressing room after her final performance that she was making the biggest mistake of her life, that denying herself the freedom to dance and the chance to love someone who genuinely gave a shit about her was a fool’s choice – but Veronica could only hang her head and take the onslaught with minor a word.

She knew, in her own way, Cheryl’s disgruntled words rang true. She knew she was choosing Nick because she was scared of what life might be like with Sweet Pea. She knew fear ruled her choices, the risk of taking a gamble and losing it all outweighing the rare treasure of having someone care about her without question.

But fear had found a friend in Veronica and once it had its clutches deep into her skin, there was no shaking it. She had turned heel and headed out of the bar for the last time.

And Sweet Pea hadn’t been there at all that night to watch her go.

Her friendship with Cheryl had suffered as a consequence. The redhead was still a member in her bridal party, though it had taken a long night of crying and convincing for her friend to accept the honor. Veronica knew it was selfish to ask her to bear witness to a union she didn’t agree with, but she needed a friend that understood her to stand beside her at the altar.

Besides, Veronica had given Cheryl her support at her own doomed wedding all those years ago. It had only seemed fair the two would be equal in that role.

Though perpetually swamped with wedding details and constant calls from her overbearing and enthusiastic mother, Veronica still missed dancing with every fiber of her being. It had been her escape from the madness, and now nothing but chaos consumed her – flower arrangements, caterer choices, wedding cake tastings and bridal gown blunders. Each time she had slipped into one of the white dresses, flanked by a series of mirrors and a gaggle of “oohing and awing” women made up of friends and family, Veronica felt overdressed and more vulnerable than she had ever felt.

None of the gowns felt right. None of the giggling and the cooing and the excitement felt genuine.

And now she stood in another typical cocktail gown straight from the confines of her basic and bland closet. Even now, not even fashion could comfort her as the deep burgundy of her dress clung to her skin like wet paper. She held onto a full flute of sparkling wine, the light whisper of a Kings of Leon song echoing like muffled water in her ear, as her penthouse was flooded with guests there to celebrate her upcoming nuptials with Nick St. Clair.

All around her, there were people smiling, laughing, exchanging scripted responses to each other over half-filled glasses of expensive champagne. Next to her, Nick was engaged in conversation with a chairperson of his company’s board, their easy jokes about the drastic changes of marriage making her stomach roll with annoyance and disgust.

_What did any of these people know about fidelity beyond the commitment to their work, the commitment to their millions?_

Nick excused himself, muttering to her something about finding a waiter for a refill, and she was left to stand alone by the mantel in the living room, holding her own drink as her mind wandered beyond the walls of her penthouse, beyond the invisible borders of Manhattan, to a land of dancing and cheese fries and bikers with hard scowls and hearts of gold.

To her own biker who she had turned away from.

She could picture his face as clear as day – his dark tresses dangling dangerously low over those deep brown eyes that always knew how to shake her spirit, the thick bulge of his arms in the jacket that ruled him, the loyalty he wore with the garment on despite his past apprehension with the Serpents. That upturned quirk of his lips that decorated his signature smirk, the plump shape of the flesh there that she knew could torture, tease, and caress every inch of her body. She could taste his tongue, the flavor of the nicotine and the mint, could smell his musk and tobacco in the air of her expensive penthouse as he invaded all of her senses and surroundings.

The ghost of him bleeding into this life that she thought was the right one.

And suddenly Veronica knew she wanted more than anything to be as far away from this world as she could get.

She didn’t belong here amongst the glitz and the glamour and the wealth. _Her heart_ didn’t belong here, chained beside a man she couldn’t stand, a life she no longer desired. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in her brain, telling her she had to run, had to get away, had to find _home_.

Like the clink of the glass as someone began a toast, she was able to shake her thoughts, almost as if she had been in a trance, hypnotized by the glitter and sparkle of her old life. She could see things clearly now for the first time in days. The veil had been lifted and there was light all around, no longer dim shadows that kept the truth from her view.

All around her, the ghosts of her past smiled and laughed through their saccharine sweet exterior, holes in their faces meant for spewing false compliments and hidden judgments marked by snarky remarks. She didn’t belong here. This was no longer the ‘her’ she wanted.

And the only person who could make her feel real was standing there in that wide room of people, holding a glass of untouched champagne with trembling fingers.

It had been her all along. No one had made her feel more herself than she did, and she had been freed from her cage by her own clear thoughts, the cage she had put herself in when she decided to merge her shell of a life with Nick.

Sweet Pea had been the one to hand her the key, had been the one to tell her how to unlock the door, but it had been her all along with the power to find who she was and embrace her.

And now she had the true power of choice. She could step outside of these walls and never come back if she wanted. She could turn her back on the family that never saw her for who she was, turn her back on the money and the wealth and the false shine of what she had been holding onto so tightly, a life covered in fake gems and sequins that sometimes shone brighter than the real thing.

But underneath the cloak of faux-happiness, the truth resided and Veronica couldn’t find her breath, her free hand coming up to grip the edge of the mantel as she fought for the strength to run.

_Run. Go home, little girl. Go home to where you belong._

She reached over with the hand gripping the flute and set the glass down on the mantel, releasing a breath as she moved. She gathered the last bit of her energy to look around the room, willing her mind to say goodbye, but it seemed fruitless. She had been done with this world for months. For years. Now was the time to walk out that front door and never look back.

The switched had been flipped. She was ready.

And Riverdale was only an hour away.

She took a few steps toward the front door, the sound of her escape muffled by the soft carpet of her living room, but just as she was entering the kitchen, she felt a hand clasp around her forearm.

“Where are you going, Veronica?”

Nick was staring at her, his brow furrowed at her expression as it was painted in waves of urgency and an oddly large smile.

Without hesitation, she replied. “I’m leaving, Nick. I’m finished.”

She reached down to her ring finger and pulled off the 2.5 karat shackle and placed it into the hand that had previously been gripping her arm.

“This was never mine. Give it to someone who deserves it. Give it to someone who deserves you. That’s not me anymore.”

Without another word, she shrugged past him, and to no one’s surprise he didn’t chase after her.

It was that ultimate truth that made her realize she was finally making the right choice.

She rushed back to her bedroom and grabbed her purse on top of her dresser, along with her keys, and hustled back down the hall toward the front door. She yanked open her barrier to freedom and found the first breath out into the hall a cleansing one.

She would answer to her parents, to this world, another day. For now, she had clarity and that’s all that mattered.

She threw herself into the driver’s seat of her car and sped out of the lot, her voice louder than her speakers as she shouted with a renewed sense of excitement and independence. She rolled the top of her convertible down and allowed the rush of air to take her lungs, take her shouts, and leave them all behind in her dust as she careened onto the freeway.

The ride to Riverdale was exhilarating, the clearest journey she had ever made, her mind focused and her heart emptied of the past, open for the promise of the future. The only parts of her that were full were all memories and thoughts of Sweet Pea.

She pictured his face, that last twist of anguish when he left her dressing room, and it squeezed her heart with a sudden ache. She smiled through the pain, however, realizing every mile left behind her was a mile closer to him, a mile closer to _them._

She didn’t exactly expect this reunion to be a peaceful one. She had hurt him. She did the one thing she knew he couldn’t handle – she walked away and she had used his trust against him. She took what he offered and set it aside mercilessly, even when she knew how hard it had been for him to give a piece of who he was to her.

Sweet Pea was a proud man. A simple “I’m sorry” would never suffice and she knew she might have to grovel, might have to beg, but wasn’t it all worth it? Wasn’t everything they shared rare enough to fight for?

She should have known that from the start, or rather learned to accept that truth instead of hiding behind the pseudo-reality she had been living in for years. She had to learn to love change, especially when it came with the reward of unconditional love.

Because she knew no matter how sour he’d be, no matter how burnt and tortured he felt by her absence, by her negligence, he still loved her and wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. She could see it in his eyes every time he had looked at her, a man lost to love with no way out. And she had felt the same.

Even in this past month with Nick, every moment she spent with him was another moment she wished it was Sweet Pea. He was never far from her mind, the picture of his face always the last thing that fell behind her eyelids as she drifted to fitful sleep, always the first thing she imagined when she opened her eyes to a new day. Instead, she’d find the curly mop of Nick St. Clair next to her, the fiancé she never should have picked, and her day would be filled with regret.

Why had it taken her so long to see the light? As she continued to speed down the freeway, the exit for Riverdale looming just ahead, she shook off the disappointment in herself. Things take time in the manner they need to. What mattered most was that she came to the truth and she was choosing the right path in the end.

Driving through the streets of Riverdale, breaching the border of the Southside, everything around her suddenly felt even more familiar. This was where she was meant to be. This place with its boarded up windows and cracked foundations and less than manicured lawns felt more like home than Manhattan had in a long time. The sparkle of the city had faded and suddenly the sun had shone over Riverdale.

As she turned the corner, her car facing the Whyte Wyrm from another block away, she felt the nerves begin to settle in her toes, rising like bubbles up her limbs and into her stomach. When she spotted Sweet Pea’s bike parked in the front of the bar, she had to let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

She parked her car roughly, too rushed to give a shit about taking up two spaces, and thrust open the car door. She felt the smile grow on her lips because even though she knew he’d be pissed, he’d still be here and she missed him. _She missed him_. More than words or images or actions could describe.

It was still early and she knew the first girl would be onstage, performing the opening number to the evening of barely-dressed cabaret. She pulled open the heavy barrier, expecting to find him manning the door in front of a decently busy crowd, but when she pushed her way through the entrance, the sight that greeted her made her stomach drop down to her toes.

The crowd was sparse, only a handful of men sitting back with their drinks as they watched a girl named Ginger prance around the stage in a two piece. Fangs stood by the bar, not even bothering to police the docile crowd, his own eyes drawn to the brunette on stage. And close to the booths, standing tall with a little grin on his face, was Sweet Pea, talking animatedly with a stacked blonde named Heather, one of the newest additions that had arrived at the Wyrm as her replacement.

It seemed the stage wasn’t the only place where she had been replaced.

The sound of Veronica’s arrival caused a few heads to snap toward the entrance, including her former lover, whose gaze turned steely when his mind recognized who she was. The smile was wiped clean, leaving a blank canvas for his lips, but his eyes were cold, dark brown and lethal like a toxic chemical.

_At least I got his attention_ , she thought, his body now turning away from Heather completely as he focused on Veronica’s presence there in the entryway to the Whyte Wyrm.

He took a step toward her and she thought she saw the shadow of his mouth open to speak, but as he crossed under one of the lights, she could see his mouth was instead pressed into a thin firm line and suddenly he was storming past her, pushing through the front door into the dim sunset of the parking lot.

She stood frozen to her spot for a moment, not quite knowing what to do. She had expected him to be pissed, but cold and apathetic? Unlikely and now entirely unnerving. Though his anger was obvious, the stomping of his boots past the barrier of her body a clear sign he was upset, his lack of impassioned speech or sneer or snide remark had her thrown. It wasn’t like Sweet Pea to not speak his mind or to blow away the opportunity to set someone straight.

Without another thought, she pivoted on her heel, turning away from the gawking eyes of a scantily-clad Heather, and barreled past the front door, hot on his heels.

“Where are you going?” she shouted a few feet behind him. He yanked his helmet straps off the handlebars of his bike and turned to face her.

“Getting as far as fuck away from here and away from you.”

She blanched from his hostility, and for a moment she saw his reaction soften as he caught the pain on her face.

He sighed roughly, running a shaky hand through his hair. _Maybe she was affecting him more than he wanted to let on._

“What are you doing here, Veronica? Why are you back in Riverdale? You and I both know you don’t belong here.”

She took a deep breath and prepared herself for her confession. Now was the time to lay it all out there for him, for herself. It was time to come clean and deal with the consequences, come what may.

“I don’t belong in Manhattan anymore either. I left.”

He pulled his box of cigarettes from the inside of his leather jacket, digging out a lighter from a pocket in the opposite lapel. He took his time lighting the end, and she knew he was intentionally drawing out the tension. He always liked seeing her squirm.

_At least she could find comfort that he hadn’t changed that much._

“And your fiancé?” he finally spoke, his words dripping with venom, more toxic that the cigarette he brought to his lips. “Did you leave him behind like you did Manhattan too?”

_Like you left me behind._

She fiddled with her nails nervously, picking at the polish on one of them, fighting to find the strength to finish what she had to say. _He had to hear what she had to say._

“Nick’s not the person I want to share my life with. I don’t think he ever was.”

Sweet Pea scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to his lips for another drag before blowing the smoke out in a noxious cloud between them.

“Looks like you’re all out of options, then, sweetheart. So again, why don’t you answer my question – what are you doing here, Veronica?”

This was where he wanted her to beg. He was giving her the opening to get down on her metaphorical knees and plead for him to take her back. She’d be a fool to not take that opportunity, but there was also that part of her that couldn’t give in too easily. Sweet Pea never liked her malleable at will. He preferred when she didn’t bend so swiftly.

Plus, there was that added element of envy as she bared witness to his flirtatious nature with another girl, a sight she had never seen in the entire span of time they knew each other. He had always been so solitary. The sight of them speaking alone had knocked the wind out of her.

“Looks like that doesn’t matter anymore. Glad to see I was so easily replaced.”

He stared at her incredulously. He couldn’t believe she’d be so transparent and still so daft. _How could she not see the way his body shook under her gaze? How could she not see the hollow shape of his eyes, the darkened circles that shadowed them from numerous sleepless nights without her? How could she still not realize his heart had been hers from the beginning, never to be handed over to another soul ever again, completely lost at her whim, absorbed into the palm of her hand and embedded into her skin?_

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Veronica.”

“What?” She threw her hands up into the air, her jealously suddenly getting the best of her as the rage began to come out. “I mean, it makes sense. I broke your heart so naturally you’d find comfort in the pussy of my replacement. How long did it take, Pea? How long was I gone before she made her move? How long was I gone before you gave in and took someone new to your bed?”

He shook his head angrily and tossed his cigarette to the ground, not even bothering to stomp out the still-lit cherry at the end.

“You’re a real fucking piece of work, Veronica.” He crossed around the bike and straddled the seat, reaching into his jeans pocket for his keys.

Not ready to give in just yet, she took the few steps toward him to bridge the distance, desperate for him to feel just as jarred as she felt being this close. She wanted him to feel the heat rolling off of her in waves, remember what it felt like to be near her, to feel her body and smell her scent. To see the brown of her eyes darken with anger and lust and love.

“Tell me, Pea! You want to hurt me back. I’m not an idiot. There’s no better way to do it. Tell me how long it took for you to soothe your wounds inside the body of someone else.”

“Jesus!” he shouted, twisting his body in the seat to face her. “You honestly think that little of me that you expect me to just toss myself like stale meat to someone starving enough to accept me? You think that little of my feelings, of my heart, that I’d tell you I love you and then turn around and say the same thing to someone else at the first sign of pain? Shit, you’re just breaking my heart all over again.”

She felt her body jolt back as the guilt and shame hit her like a shockwave.

“I’ve been let down my entire life, Veronica. Never have I reached out like a gunshot and clung to the closest thing I could find to blanket my wounds. I may not process my shit in the healthiest of ways, but I’ve never used another person at the expense of sharing my misery to alleviate my burden.”

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes falling to the ground, watching as a few flecks of dirt danced across the surface from an oncoming gust of wind. She could hear his sigh as it whipped in the air around them.

“Veronica, look at me.”

She hesitated, worried she’d find anger or pity, but there was nothing more evident in his eyes than question and confusion.

“Why did you come back? You left Nick. Okay. You’re finally free. Why did you come back to Riverdale?”

She stared at his eyes, memorizing every feature in case he took her next words and decided he had had enough, that he had found closure and he would ride off into the sunset and she’d never see him again.

“I was standing there at our engagement party and for the first time in my life, I felt like that world was unfamiliar to me. The thought of choosing you, choosing change, was terrifying, but listening to those people in their suits and expensive shoes laugh and cheer and congratulate me made me feel so alone, so distant. I chose Nick because I thought it would require less of me. It would be a world I knew, a life I could be comfortable with because it’s all I’ve ever known, but standing there with my champagne, waiting for the toasts to begin and the bullshit to spill from someone else’s mouth – I’ve never felt more out of place. None of that penthouse felt like me. None of those people knew me, and for once I didn’t know them. I stopped knowing myself. I felt like I was fading into the walls and I had to get out.”

She licked her lips as she continued, watching as his eyes stayed glued to her own. His face was still hard to read, but she appreciated that he was still listening.

“For the first time in my life, I felt like the wool had been removed from my eyes. I could see, finally, and what I saw scared the shit out of me. I was all alone in a big room with people I didn’t recognize, attached to a man who didn’t recognize me. This whole time, I thought he held the key to my future and I’d just have to reside there in that gilded cage because it’s what was safest for me. But he didn’t hold the key. He didn’t care to have that kind of power over me. He didn’t care.”

She cleared her throat as she fought against the tears that threatened to spill. She needed to get through this. She needed him to hear.

“But you cared. And you held the key to what I realize was my happiness. I just had to choose to accept that key and make happiness for myself. I didn’t make that choice, though. I threw what you gave me back in your face and laid in the bed I had made for myself, too stubborn to realize I regretted what I did every single day since I told Nick ‘yes.’”

Sweet Pea pursed his lips and nodded slowly, his arms folding across his chest as he readjusted himself on the bike to turn more toward her.

“I’m glad you came to your senses, Veronica. And I’m glad you’re deciding to choose happiness. But what does this have to do with me? Like you said – you made your bed, and while I’m glad you rolled out of the one you were in, what makes you think you can come lay in mine again? I told you I loved you. I meant it. Fuck, I still mean it. But the pain hasn’t gone away, Veronica, and I don’t know what it’s going to take to finally ease up.”

She let a single tear fall as a desperate gasp of air fell from her trembling lips. This was not going how she expected. _But how could she have expected this to be solved so quickly? How could she have expected him to hear her speech and immediately take her back?_ She had done more damage than she could ever have imagined. It should come as no surprise to her – he had wrecked her world in the same fashion. It seemed only natural the damage was mutual.

Still, she couldn’t give up. She had to see this through. He had the right to know.

“You’re all I’ve thought about, Sweet Pea. You’re all I think about when I wake up. You’re all I think about when I go to bed and you’re all I think about every second of every damn day, and leaving the Southside, leaving the Wyrm, _leaving you_ was the biggest mistake of my life. I don’t know if you could ever forgive me, but I had to come and tell you. I had to come and say you were the best thing that ever happened to me and my life has only changed for the better since you stomped into it with those boots I despise but secretly love. Everything about you has become familiar to me – your smile, your heart, the way you look at me when it’s just the two of us together. Even when you’re mad at me, and rightfully so, I can still see the real me in your eyes because you know who I am, and I know who you are. You were right – neither of us are perfect but somehow in this fucked up puzzle of life, we complete each other. I’ve never been so in love with somebody that I was blind to what was right. I’ve never felt so whole that being apart from you felt like I was missing a piece of who I was. You asked me once to try. To try and give this a chance. I was a fool and I walked away from you. Now, I’m asking you to be the smart one and take a chance, again, on me, on us. To try and complete me again. I’m nothing without you.”

He was silent for another minute as he stared at her, his brown eyes frozen on the tear she had shed and the others that began to gather around the dam of her eyelids. He watched as her lip trembled proudly, her chin jutted high in pride. She had said what she needed to say, emptied her heart for him there in that parking lot, and he knew she’d be damned if he saw her fall apart afterward.

He cleared his throat and turned back to face the handlebars of his bike, placing the key from his hand into the ignition and cranking the engine on, the rumble of the motor bouncing against the dirt on the ground.

Veronica felt her heart bottom out and lay flat at her feet, no longer beating as he brought the helmet up to his head, securing the strap under his chin. _He was going to leave without her. He wasn’t going to forgive her. He was going to pull out of this parking lot and leave everything they had behind in his dust._

Over the volume of the bike, she could hear his heavy exhale as his hands came up to release the clasp of the strap, pulling the helmet down with one hand. He examined it in his hands for another few seconds before turning to offer it to her in his outstretched hand.

“Get on,” he instructed, and there in his eyes she found the anger had subsided and faded off, replaced with the keen bright shine of _hope._

Too much pain had transpired between them, but throughout the wreckage there was still love and Sweet Pea couldn’t deny it. She had said her peace, asked him to forgive her, and he’d be less than the man he wanted to be, less than the man she deserved, and less than the man she knew him to be if he denied her.

She accepted the helmet, smashing it on top of her long raven hair as she straddled the bike behind him, clinging to his waist as hope and love soared through her.

He was about as far from perfect as you could get – but so was she. The money, the fashion, the legacy, it all meant nothing without happiness, warmth, and love. The road with Sweet Pea might be a long and winding one, but nothing had excited her more than the thought of taking it with him, chest to back, thighs together on the back of his Harley.

She didn’t know where the Hell they were going, but there, with him behind the handlebars and her hands around his waist, she didn’t really give a damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The newest SweetVee fic, coming Spring 2018, from elegantmoonchild!!!
> 
> _Veronica Lodge had spent the last wild eight months in a hot and heavy tryst with known gang member and boyfriend Sweet Pea. Everything about his life screamed danger and thrill, the appeal of which drew Veronica in like a moth to a flame. That all changed, though, in the blink of an eye – the three minutes their circumstances shifted from whirlwind romance to unexpected pregnancy when the color of the test strip turned pink._
> 
> _How will this new couple face the change that greets them and will their young love manage to survive the fear of impending parenthood? Find out as the clock counts down, month by month, in the nine part tale of romance, angst, and pregnancy hormones._
> 
> I hope you all come back for this fic. I'm incredibly excited for it and I hope you are too!!!


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